IMAGE  EVALUATION 
TEST  TARGET  (MT-S) 


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1.0 


1.25 


lAo  mil  2.0 


II 

H  ■  1.6 


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V 


Photographic 

Sciences 

Corporation 


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23  V7EST  MAIN  STREET 

WEBSTES,  N.Y.  14580 

(716)  872-4503 


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CIHM/ICMH 

Microfiche 

Series. 


CIHM/ICMH 
Collection  de 
microfiches. 


Canadian  Institute  for  Historical  Microreproductions  /  Institut  Canadian  de  microreproductions  historiques 


Technical  and  Bibliographic  Notes/Notes  techniques  et  bibliographiques 


The  institute  has  attempted  to  obtain  the  best 
original  copy  available  for  filming.  Features  of  this 
copy  which  may  be  bibliographically  unique, 
which  may  alter  any  of  the  Images  in  the 
reproduction,  or  which  may  significantly  change 
the  usual  method  of  filming,  are  checked  below. 


D 


D 


D 


D 
D 


D 


Coloured  covers/ 
Couverture  de  couleur 


F^    Covers  damaged/ 


Couverture  endommagie 


Covers  restored  and/or  lanlnated/ 
Couverture  restaur^  et/ou  pelliculte 


I      I   Cover  title  missing/ 


Le  titre  de  couverture  manque 


I      I   Coloured  maps/ 


D 


Cartes  giographiques  en  couleur 

Coloured  Ink  (i.e.  other  than  blue  or  black)/ 
Encre  de  couleur  (i.e.  autre  que  bleue  ou  noire) 


r~n   Coloured  plates  and/or  illustrations/ 


Planches  et/ou  illustrations  en  couleur 

Bound  with  other  material/ 
ReliA  avec  d'autres  documents 

Tight  binding  may  cause  shadows  or  distortion 
along  interior  margin/ 

La  reliure  serrde  peut  causer  de  I'ombre  ou  de  la 
distortion  le  long  de  la  marge  IntArieure 

Blank  leaves  added  during  restoration  may 
appear  within  the  text.  Whenever  possible,  these 
have  been  omitted  from  filming/ 
II  se  peut  que  certaines  pages  blanches  ajoutAes 
lors  d'une  restauration  apparaissent  dans  le  texte, 
mais,  iorsque  cela  Atait  possible,  ces  pages  n'ont 
pas  At*  filmtes. 

Additional  comments:/ 
Commentaires  supplAmentaires: 


L'institut  a  microfilm^  le  meilleur  exemplaire 
qu'il  lui  a  AtA  possible  de  se  procurer.  Les  details 
de  cet  exemplaire  qui  sont  peut-Atre  uniques  du 
point  de  vue  bibliographique,  qui  peuvent  modifier 
une  image  reproduite,  ou  qui  peuvent  exiger  une 
modification  dans  la  methods  normale  de  f llmage 
sont  indlqute  ci-dessous. 


r~~|   Coloured  pages/ 


D 


Pages  de  couleur 

Pages  damaged/ 
Pages  endommag^es 

Pag9s  restored  and/oi 

Pages  restauries  et/ou  peillculAes 

Pages  discoloured,  stained  or  foxei 
Pages  dteolorAes,  tacheties  ou  pIquAes 

Pages  detached/ 
Pages  d6tach6es 

Showthrough/ 
Transparence 

Quality  of  prir 

Quality  InAgaie  de  I'lmpression 

includes  supplementary  materii 
Comprend  du  materiel  supplAmentaire 

Only  edition  available/ 
Seule  Adition  disponible 


r~~1  Pages  damaged/ 

I — I  Pag9s  restored  and/or  laminated/ 

r~^  Pages  discoloured,  stained  or  foxed/ 

I     I  Pages  detached/ 

r~pr  Showthrough/ 

I      I  Quality  of  print  varies/ 

I      I  includes  supplementary  material/ 

r~~|  Only  edition  available/ 


1 
s 


d 
e 
b 
ri 
r( 
n 


Pages  wholly  or  partially  obscured  by  errata 
slips,  tissues,  etc.,  have  been  ref limed  to 
ensure  the  best  possible  image/ 
Les  pages  totalement  ou  p  jrtiellement 
obscurcles  par  un  feuiilet  d'errata,  une  pelure, 
etc..  ont  AtA  fllmAes  A  nouveau  de  fa^on  k 
obtenir  la  meilieure  Image  possible. 


This  item  is  filmed  at  the  reduction  ratio  checked  below/ 

Ce  document  est  filmA  au  taux  de  reduction  indiqui  ci-dessous. 

10X  14X  18X  22X 


26X 


30X 


y 


12X 


16X 


20X 


24X 


28X 


32X 


'e 

6tail8 
)S  du 
nodiffiar 
ir  une 
ilmage 


IS 


The  copy  filmed  here  has  been  reproduced  thanks 
to  the  generosity  of: 

Izaaic  Walton  Killam  Memorial  Library 
Dalhousie  University 

The  imr  les  appearing  here  are  the  best  quality 
possible  considering  the  condition  and  legibility 
of  the  original  copy  and  in  keeping  with  the 
filming  contract  specifications. 


Original  copies  in  printed  paper  covers  are  filmed 
beginning  with  the  front  cover  and  ending  on 
the  last  page  with  a  printed  or  illustrated  impres- 
sion, or  the  back  cover  when  appropriate.  All 
other  original  copies  are  filmed  beginning  on  the 
first  page  with  a  printed  or  illustrated  impres- 
sion, and  ending  on  the  last  page  with  a  printed 
or  illustrated  impression. 


The  last  recorded  frame  on  each  microfiche 
shall  contain  the  symbol  — ^-  (meaning  "CON- 
TINUED"), or  the  symbol  V  (meaning  "END"), 
whichever  applies. 

Maps,  plates,  charts,  etc.,  may  be  filmed  at 
different  reduction  ratios.  Those  too  large  to  be 
entirely  included  in  one  exposure  are  filmed 
beginning  in  the  upper  left  hand  corner,  left  to 
right  and  top  to  bottom,  as  many  frames  as 
required.  The  following  diagrams  illustrate  the 
method: 


L'exemplaire  film6  fut  reproduit  grdce  d  la 
g6n6rosit6  de: 

Izaak  Walton  Killam  Memorial  Library 
Dalhousie  University 

Les  images  suivantes  ont  6t6  reproduites  avec  le 
plus  grand  soin,  compte  tenu  de  la  condition  at 
de  la  nettetd  de  l'exemplaire  f  ilm6,  et  en 
conformity  avec  les  conditions  du  contrat  de 
filmage. 

Les  exemplaires  originaux  dont  la  couverture  en 
papier  est  imprim^e  sont  film^s  en  commen^ant 
par  le  premier  plat  et  en  terminant  soit  par  la 
dernidre  page  qui  comporte  une  empreinte 
d'impression  ou  d'illustration,  soit  par  le  second 
plat,  salon  le  cas.  Tous  les  autres  exemplaires 
originaux  sont  film6s  en  commenpant  par  la 
premidre  page  qui  comporte  une  empreinte 
d'impression  ou  d'illustration  et  en  terminant  par 
la  dernidre  page  qui  comporte  une  telle 
empreinte. 

Un  des  symboles  suivants  apparattra  sur  la 
dernidre  image  de  cheque  microfiche,  selon  le 
cas:  le  symbols  — ^  signifie  "A  SUIVRE",  le 
symbols  V  signifie  "FIN  ". 

Les  cartes,  planches,  tableaux,  etc.,  peuvent  dtre 
film6s  d  des  taux  de  reduction  diffirents. 
Lorsque  le  document  est  trop  grand  pour  dtre 
reproduit  en  un  seul  cliche,  il  est  film6  d  partir 
de  Tangle  supirieur  gauche,  de  gauche  d  droite, 
et  de  haut  en  bas,  en  prenant  le  nombre 
d'images  nicessaire.  Les  diagrammes  suivants 
illustrent  la  m6thode. 


irrata 
to 


pelure, 
n  A 


□ 


32X 


1 

2 

3 

1 

2 

3 

4 

5 

6 

1^. 


''T*'*"  7vf?f**?*,'* 


THE 


PROBLEM  OF  PERSONALITY 


0: 


THESIS    PRESENTED    FOR    THE    DEGREE  OF    DOCTOR   OF 
PHII,OSOPH^^  AT  CORNEI.L  UNIVERSITY,  JUNE,  1889. 


BY 


ELIZA    RITCHIE. 


y' 


\ 


"  //  est  datigiueux  de  trap  /aire  voir  a  I'homme  conibien  il  est  Igal  anx 
bHi's  sans  lui  monlirr  sa  grandeur,  Tl est  encore  daiigereux  de  In i  fail  e  trap 
voir  sa  grandeur  sans  sa  bassesse.  II  fist  encore  plus  dangereux  dclui'aisser 
ignorer  I'ltn  et  Vautre.  Mais  il  est  tr'es  avantagetix  de  lui  reprhenter  Vun 
et  I'autre." 

—Pascal's  Pensees. 


f..  ■ 


ITHACA,   N.   Y. 

ANDRUS   &  CHURCH. 

1889. 


/ 


W*W!*i''> 


II  i.,/i|i>j«inpiqai*«g; 


W'WM 


/ 


For  Library  Use  Only. 


/ 


<f. 


(£><35?  -  %-i^  a3/a; 


THE 


PROBLEM  OF  PERSONALITY 


THESIS    PKRSENTKI)    FOR    THK    nRGRKK  OK    DOCTOR   OF 
PHILOSOPHY,  AT  CORNELL  UNIVERSITY,  JUNE,  1889. 


RY 


EIvIZA    RITCHIE, 


"//  est  daiif;nrux  dc  tiof>  fahr  Toir  a  Vhomme  combii'n  i! est  fgalaiix 
hHes  sans  tut  montrer  sa  grandeur.  II est  rncnre  dangereux  de  Uiifaire  trap 
voir  sa  gravdetir  sanssa  bassesse.  fl  est  encore  plusdangereuv  de  luilaisser 
ignorer  I'un  et  I'autre.  .Ifai's  it  est  tres  a-'antageiix  dc  lui  reprcsenter  t'ltn 
et  I'autre." 

— Pascal's  Pensees. 


ITHACA,    N.    Y. 

ANDRUS  &   CHURCH. 

18S9. 


I 


The  Problem  of  Personality. 


CIIAPTICR   I. 


THK    PROlJIJvM. 


TT  is  a  coinnion  accusaliuii  brought  against  Pliilosophj- 
^  that  it  makes  no  true  progress,  — that  it  never  attains 
to  definite  and  ])erniaiient  results.  The  problems  that  en- 
gaged it  two  thousand  years  ago  are,  it  is  said,  still  un- 
solved,— the  (pieslio-as  that  .Socrates  asked  of  his  fellow 
citizens  on  the  streets  of  Athens  still  wait  for  a  final 
answer.  And  this  lack  of  result  is  contrasted  with  the  rich 
fruits  that  have  been  gathered  in  the  various  departments  ol 
physical  science,  where  each  patient  investigator  may  hope 
to  make  S(,)me  sniall  addition  to  the  great  sum  of  human 
knowleilge.  It  nuiy  be  that  the  objection  thus  raised  shows 
a  certain  ignorance  as  to  the  sense  in  which  a  solution  is  to 
be  expected  to  speculative  problems.  Perhaps  such  objec- 
tion may  be  met  ))y  ])oinling  out  that  it  is  in  the  gradual  eluci- 
dation of  what  such  questions  involve,  and  the  raising  of  the 
mind  by  means  of  them  to  ever  higher  spheres  of  thought, 
rather  than  in  categorical  answers,  that  the  work  of  philoso- 
phy consists.  And  it  may  be  lu'ged  that,  in  .some  measure, 
the  inquirer  has  himself  to  blame  if  he  does  not  recognize 
that  certain  territories  have  been  conquered  for  humanity 
even  in  the  obscure  regions  of  mela[)hysical  speculation. 
The  .scoffer  at  the  vanity  of  phihjsophical  research  may  be 
but  a  modern  Pilate  who  will  listen  to  no  answer  to  his  own 
(piestion  of  skeptical  iiidiflference  :— What  is  Truth? 

Yet  the  criticism  is  not  altogether  unfounded  or  unjust. 
In  the  field  of  .scientific  discovery  each  successive  student 
finds  a  large  body  of  well-ascertained  facts  and  thoroughly 
tested  hypotheses  already  within  his  reach  ;  and  to  these  he 


nuy   hope   to   add   accovdin;^    to   liis    aMlily   and    industry  : 
whiK'    fn.n.    Ihf    varvin;-    and    olk-ii   n.nnirtiii-    syskins   ol 
spenilativc-   philosophies  each   ikw   thinker   nui>t    make  hi^ 
dioice.     No  -reat  philosophic  writer  has  accvpad  the  teach- 
in-  of  his  pvedecessor  as  a   whole,    however  nitudi   he    may 
iKwe  been   innnenccd  hy  it.     He   <l.^e>   not  ciitenl   hunsell 
with    enlai-inu-   the  scoik-,   or  tracin-   onl    the  details,   of  a 
previous  theorv,  hiit  nsnilly  he-ins  ./r  ;/c):v  and  institutes  a 
new  system    tor  himself.      We  m  lintain,    indee<1,    that  amid 
this  apparent  discord   and  confusion  there  is   pro-ress,   real 
and  permanent,  but  it  undoubtedly  seems  va-ne  and  nnctu- 
ntin-  as  compared  with  the  steady  -'"Wl'i  of  natural  science 
No  wander  that  the  practical  spirit  of  our  time  turns  to  that 
direction  where    the  results  seem  at  once   more   immediate, 
more  certain,  and  more  useful. 

It  is  not  the  purpo.se  of  this  essay  to  discuss  the  value  and 
validity  of  philosophic  study.     If  wc  refer  to  the  weak  ikmiiI 
in  the  pliilo.<^phic  armom",  it  is  for  the  jmrpose  of  showiiiK 
how.    in  the   writer's  opinion,   it   may  be   streii-theiied.      If 
philosophical  .study  is  to  be  a  livino-  force,   leading  men  to 
new  truths  or  ,i;iving  them  a  deeper  in.sighl  into  truths  al- 
ready known,  surely  it  must  effect  its  pmposc.-not  by  ignor- 
ing-  the  results  of  modern  scientific  research,  the  influence  of 
which    is   continually,    though    often    to    us    nnconsciimsly. 
jnoulding  our  views  of  life  and  the  world  ;-but  rather  by 
cordially  accepting  the  new  side  lights  thus  thrown  upon  its 
problems,  and  endeavoring  to  grasp  and  present  the  separate 
or  but  partially  connected   facts  thus  bnmght  into  view  by 
uniting  them  in  a  rational  and   '.  ■'elligible  system.      It  is,  at 
all  events,  in  this  spirit  that  we  would  approach  the  subject 

of  t^iCrsonality. 

If  there  is  one  matter  discussed  by  speculative  tliiiik- 
ers  which  can  claim  to  be  of  universal  interest,  it  is 
the  nature  of  the  personality  of  man  himself.  However 
altruistic  we  may  be  in  theory  or  practice,  however  we  may 
be  occupied  witl'i  the  marvels  (^f  nature  or  the  products  ot 
art,  no  nran  would  deny  that  the  supreme  interests  of  lile 
centre  round  that  composite,  ill  defined,  dimly  undenstcod, 


1ml  \ivi(lly  iral  h^iii.;  hv  c;ills  himself.  What  is  this  srlf? 
What  (M)iistiiutfs  a  pti-dii^  What  am  I  ?  I'midaiiKiital  as 
Ihisf  «nn.'sli(i]is  ai)iiear,  still  mniv  si.  aic-hiii;;'  is  this  other  :  Is 
iK'ic  siu'h  an  fiility  a^  a  self,  a  piison,  an  t'K"?  This  is  no 
mutai>li\si("al  straw  <]>littin;4.  A  "  psNcholoLiy  witlmul  ;i 
soul"  is  (irf',i(.-(l  u^  to  ila\-  not  1)\'  s])iM'iilali\T  jilii'io o^ihv  luit 
in  Ihc  nanu' of  sol)i,T  ami  c\, id  science.  It  has  hccn  alliruKd 
tljal  from  lla-  lime  of  1  )i, -(-ailcs,  materialism  i>  a  nuie  an- 
achronism, l)Ul  Iho  i'k.ilir^t  oan  no  lon;_;ir  la\-  that  fl.ilkiing 
inic-tii>n  to  lli-^  sonl.  In  linlh,  anachronism  or  no,  material- 
ism ha"  nevi  r  left  the  fielil.  Mealism  ma\  lia\e  Iri- 
uniphed  time  ami  ,il;  lin.  hut  its  enem\-  has  not  ivco.^- 
ni/.eil  its  own  (lei'eal.  l.,ike  the  .-.lion:^  man  '  he  le.^end, 
who,  Ihiown  lo  the  ,L;it)nnd  on]\-  L;.itheie<l  n^  ..•  slien;4tli 
fmm  lonehin,n  moUier  (.arth,  so  maleiialisn.,  iniahle  to 
hold  ils  own  as  a  s])eeidal'\'e  s_\slem,  .lis  h.ick  no, mi 
physical  ciimi.",  and  i^iins  from  il~  eontact  with  'laluie  that 
\-iL;or  aihl  aeli\-il_\-  wliieh  ixnder  il  formidal)U',  We  can  in 
ficl  only  s',i..'ceislnllv  coaio  it  IIk-  errors  "f  Tim;.  sysU  ni  (>f 
tlunii^hl  wlien  we  fnllv  n  coi.;ni/e  wlm.l  me;isuie  "f  trnth  is 
mixed  up  with  it.  That  Ihvw-  i,-.,  in  a  very  real  .sense,  a  soul, 
an  e;4o,  will  he  ma;le  a]>parenl  hy  the  examination  we  have 
undertaken  into  the  si^ynifieance  of  the  W(  .id  ])ersoiial;ty. 

What  con-^lilules  per.sonalitv  ?  Tlie  eonce])l  seems  at  first 
siL;ht  so  ^imple  as  haidlx  to  dc-maiul  explaiKition  or  clefiuititju. 
\'et  the  word  is  used  to  exjuess  very  v.nions,  and  sometimes 
\er\-  v.ij^ne  and  indefmile  notions.  What  we  want  it  the 
outset  of  our  iiup'.irx'  into  the  Mihjeet  is  ;i  sueeiiu-l  and  cdear 
aee<)unt  ol  wiial  we  eoininonly  mean  1)\  the  term  "])er.-i>n," 
as  that  word  i>  usually  emploved  in  every-day  spLi.-cli. 
The  definition  thus  foimnkitcd  ir.a\,  it  is  tine,  he  snh.sc- 
(lUeiitly  found  to  be  more  or  less  insnffieieiil  and  to  re([uire 
important  correction,  as  our  insij^ht  into  what  it  includes  be- 
comes deeper  and  clearer  by  aiials'sis  and  relkction.  Some- 
thii"'    of  this  S')rt  ;ilm;)st    inevilal) 


r,  a 


o ;  I  o 


ws  the  attempt  to 
])enetrate  to  tlu-  line  significr.nce  of  iacts  wliich  have  been 
always  jiresenl  to  us,  and  with  which  in  a  sense  we  have 
been  all   our  lives  familiar.      But      provi-^ional  definilion  will 


—  6  — 


at  least  serve  to  mark  out  the  field  of  our  inquiries,  au<l  may, 
l)erliaps,  at  the  same  time  indicate  the  path  l)y  which  it  can 
l)e  most  readily  and  conveniently  approached. 

The  term  "person"  suggests  at  once  to  us  "man."     Man, 
as  we  conunonly  re,<;ard  him,  consists  of  a  mind  or  spirit  con- 
nected with  a  human  organism  or  body.     What  we  mean  by 
a   person,  in   the  same  general   sense,  .seems   to  be  a  spirit, 
distinct  from  other  spirits,  having  a  conscious  life  of  its  own, 
—able,  that  is,  to  connect  its  own  states  in  a  series  and  view 
them   as  i)ertaiuing  to  itself,    and   able  to  look  forward   to 
other,  as  yet  unseen,  states  with   the  expectation  that  they 
too  will  be  a  part  of  its  own  consciousness.     Leaving  for  the 
moment  all  theological  and  spiritualistic  teaching  out  of  the 
question,  we  may  further  assert  that  in  experience  we  always 
find  such   independent   and   self  conscious   spirit   connected 
with,  and   manifesting  itself  through,   a  material  organism. 
What  ccjustitutes  a  personality  api)ears  to  be,  therefore,  first, 
the  fact  of  self  consciousness  ;  secondly,  a  certain  impenetra- 
bility or  self-maintaining  individuality  ;  and,  lastly,  the  con- 
juncUon  of  psychical  states  with  a  physical  organism. 

Accepting  this  as  a  temporary  and  provisional  account  ot 
our  subject,  we  may  at  once  proceed  to  examine  it  on  the  ba- 
sis of  this  three-fold  division.  Having  considered  it  thus  in 
detail,  by  means  of  this  sotnewhat  rough  atuUysis  of  the  no- 
tion in  its  popular  acceptation,  it  will  finally  be  necessary  to 
gather  up  the  results  of  our  investigation,  and  observe  what 
clearer  and  fuller  significance  the  idea  of  personality  has 
gained  for  us. 

We  shall  first  consider  the  comiection  of  the  phenomena  of 
mental  life  with  the  physical  organism.  The  thorough  cx- 
nmination  of  this  question  includes  the  subject-matter  of  a 
whole  .science,— that  of  physiological  psychology.  But  we 
are  here  in  no  wise  concerned  with  the  details  connected  with 
the  physical  basis  of  each  mental  act  or  state  of  conscious- 
ness. We  have  merely  to  do  with  the  significance  of  there 
being  such  a  basis,  and  with  the  conclusions  which  we  may, 
or  must,  draw  from  the  fact  of  the  conjunction  of  physical 
and  psychical  phenomena.     Om-  problem  here  will  be  :  How 


—  7  — 


can  wc  most  adequately  and  rationally  represent  to  ourselves 
the  relation  existing  between  mind  and  body,  due  weight  be- 
ing given  to  facts  ascertained  by  science  with  regard  to  both  ? 
And,  what  are  the  effects,  if  any,  of  tiie  determination  we 
reach  in  respect  to  this  relation  upon  our  conception  of  the 
nature  of  the  two  classes  of  phenomena  ? 

This  question  is  one  which  may  be  said  to  lie  on  the  border- 
land  between    psychology    and   metaphysics.     It   does    not 
strictly  come  within  the  domain  of  the  former,  for  psychology 
is  a  science  of  phenomena  only.     But  it  is  a  problem  to  which 
we  are  inevitably  led  by  the  course  of  psychological  investi- 
gation.    vSo  fundamental,  indeed,  is  it  to  the  psychologist, 
that  the  whole  tone  and  color  of  his  work,  its  prevailing  di- 
rection and  ultimate  results,  are  almost  inevitably  affected  by 
his  attitude  towards  it.     The  new  school  of  psychology,   is, 
HI  fact,  differentiated  from  the  older  school  mainly  by   its 
altered  conception  of  the  relation  of  the  mind  with  tlie  body. 
If  this  first  part  of  our  subject  is  of  no  small  psychological 
interest,  the  .second  is  of  at  least  equal  importance  to  the  .stu- 
dent of  metaphysics.     While  psychologists  differ  concerning 
the  existence  of  a  self,  and  di.spute  whether  the  .series  of  states 
of  consciousness  is  all  that  we  can  learn  by  introspection,  or 
wheth'-r  we  nmst  assume  an  entity  or  unifying  principle  under- 
lying them,  the  metaphysician  is  as  much  as  ever  bound   to 
regard  the  fiict  of  .self-con.sciousne.ss,— whatever  its  implica- 
tions,—as  the  necessary  condition  of  all  knowledge  -nd  the 
most  immediately  certain  fact  of  existence.     The    "  Cogito 
ergo  sum"  of  Descartes  still  represents,  however  crudely,  the 
starting  point  of  ontological  speculation  ;  and  Kant's  "Unity 
of    api)erception"    still   expresses,  however   indefinitely,   the 
central  thought  of  all  modern  theories  of  cognition.     But  our 
out  look  need  not  include  such  a  vast  field  as  we  have  here 
indicated,  since  in  our  present  investigation  we  .shall  be  con- 
cerned with  selfoonsciousijcss,  not  so  nmcli  as  the  elementary 
datum  of  thought -the  foundation  of  the  phenomenal  world, 
but  rather  as  marking  out  the  limits  of  mind  as  we  usually 
consider  it,  and  as  pointing  out  the  boundary  line  which  dis- 
tinguishes the  "person"  from  the  "thing."  ' 


I 


Closely  coniiecled  with  self-coiisciou.siies.s,  yet  not  identical 
with  it,  is  the  third  attribute  or  characteristic  which  appears 
to  belong  to  personality, — namely  Individuality,  by  which  is 
meant  that  which  distinguishes  the  series  of  conscious  states 
making  up  one  man's  experience  from  the  more  or  less  simi- 
lar series  which  constitute  the  lives  of  others.  This  isolation 
of  the  spirit,  the  nuu-king  off  as  it  were,  of  a  man's  life  from 
that  of  his  fellow  creatures,  at  once  gives  it  the  possibility  of 
an  ethical  value,  is  what  makes  personal  character  possible, 
and  at  the  same  time  seems  toimpress  it  with  a  stamp  of  finite- 
ness  and  limitation,  just  l^ecause  the  stream  of  his  experience 
nuist  flow  in  one  narrow  channel,  and  apparently  never  loses 
itself  in  the  wide  ocean  of  universal  thought  and  feeling. 
Hence  this  branch  of  our  subject  will  naturally  lead  to  a  con- 
sideration of  personality  in  its  ethical  aspect,  that  is  as  indi- 
vidual character.  We  shall  have  to  investigate  what  are  the 
sources  of  character,  and  to  face  the  ethical  problems  which 
we  may  find  involved.  Finally,  it  will  be  necessary  to  con- 
sider whether  personality  finds  its  highest  exponent  in  nuin, 
or  whether  it  is  a  category  which  we  may  legitimately  apply 
to  that  Infinite  Being  which  Philosophy  knows  as  the  Abso- 
lute or  Unconditioned,  but  which  the  religious  consciousness 
of  mankind  recognizes  as  God. 


CHAPTER  II. 

THE  RICI.ATION  OP  MIXD  AND    nODY. 

We  have  said  llial  in  experience  iiiiiul  is  only  found  in  con- 
nection with  a  material  oi-aiu-sn,.     Wliat.  then,  is  implied  in 
this  fact?     What  is  the  nature  of  the  h'nk   which   hhids  to- 
.i^ethcr  "mind    and   its  foreign  companion,"    as    Mr.    vSully 
somewhat  iiappily  phrases  it  ?     Let  us  first  ex.-imine  tlie  sub- 
jectjrom  the  p]iysioIo<;ical  standpoint. 
^  The  facts  of  the  case  may  l)e  l)riefly  summarized  as  follows  : 
Certain   particles  of  matter  in   motion   act  as  stimuli  on  the 
end-or-ans  of  the  iiuman  body.     A  certain  form  of  mokxaiiar 
motion  is  thus  started  in  the  nerves,  and  is  conveved  bv  tlieiu 
to  the  central  organs  of  the   nervous  system   which   are  tluis 
excited  to  activity.     As  the  afTerent,  or  sensorv   nerves  thus 
conduct  motion  in,  so  the  efferent,  or  motor  nerves  conduct 
motion  out,  being  set  in  motion  by  the  central  organs    and  in 
their  turn  exciting   the    muscles.     Thus  we   have   a    closed 
circle  of  purely   physical  causation,  forming  a  perfectly   con- 
sistent account  of  the  action  of  the  sensorv  ami  motor  nurhan- 
ism  of  tlie  human   organism.     Where  in    this  circle  do  we 
meet  with  mind,  with  sensation  and  will  ?     When  the  motion 
which  has  I)een  set  up  in  the  nerves  In-  the  action  of  the  ex- 
ternal stimulus  on  the  end  <^rgaii  of  sense  has  been  conveyed 
to  some  part  of  the  brain,  then,  simultaneouslv  with  the  mo- 
tion of  some  portions  of  the  brain  matter,  there  is  a  sensation 
When  again  the   molecular  motion  in  a  ymrt  of  the  brain  is 
conveyed  to  an  efferent  nerve,  and  bv  it  to  a  muscle    there  is 
a  consciousness  of  volition.     What   is   the  n-lation  between 
sensations  and   volition.s  or  states  of  consciousness,  ami  the 
purely  physical   phenomenon  of  the  motion  of  the     lolecules 
which  form  part  of  the  nervous  system  of  the   human  body? 
The  answer  of  the  observer  .jf  the  physiological  facts  must  be 
this  :   motion  in  the  nervous  molecules  is  subject   to  the  uui- 


w 


0 


—  lO 


versal  law  of  the  conservation  of  encrgj-.  Now,  if  we  sup- 
pose motion  in  the  sensory  nerves  to  be  transformed  on  reach- 
ing the  brain  into  a  sensation,  then  either  the  law  of  the  con- 
servation of  energy  is  violated,  or  we  must  take  sensation  to 
be  //sr/f  a  mode  of  motion.  But  the  latter  alternativ^e  is  un- 
thinkable, we  cannot  materialize  a  mental  process  ;  the  psy- 
chical is  as  such  not  the  physical,  a  sensation  caiuiot  be  a  mo- 
tion of  particles  of  matter.  The  physical  process  must,  there- 
fore, be  thought  as  uninterrupted  by  the  sensation. — as  a  con- 
tinuous process  ;  the  sensation  being  an  accompaniment  of  a 
part  of  this  physical  process.  This  much  the  physiologist 
may  claim  to  have  proved, — mental  phenomena  do  accom- 
pany, and  do  uot  interrupt,  the  chain  of  physical  phenomena. 

vSo  far  all  is  simple,  but  at  this  point  our  difficulties  l)egin. 
Is  there  any  relation  between  the  motion  of  particles  of  mat- 
ter in  the  cells  and  fibres  of  the  nervous  system  and  the  men- 
tal iihenoniena  which  accompany  them?  And,  if  so,  how  is 
this  relation  to  be  expressed?  In  view  of  the  fact  that  men- 
tal events  of  a  certain  definite  character  do  alwaj's  accom- 
pany certain  nervous  events  of  a  no  less  definite  character, 
and  that  the  former  vary  in  intensitj'  according  to  the  strength 
of  tlie  latter,  it  seems  impossible  to  deny  the  existence  of  a 
connection  between  the  two  sets  of  phenomena.  But  what 
kind  of  connection?  The  answer  usually  given  is  that  there 
is  a  certain  invariable  conccmiitance  of  parallelism,  and  this 
may  fairly  be  granted  as  ascertained  bejond  reasonable  doubt. 
But  surely  this  is  an  insu.fficieut  answer  to  the  question  ;  it  is 
no  explanation  of  the  relation,  but  amounts  only  to  the  bare 
statement  that  there  must  be  soimc  connection  l)etween  phe- 
nomena which  apjK'ar  simultaneously,  and  somehow  corres- 
pond in  intensity. 

But  why  not,  it  may  l)e  asTced,  have  recourse  to  the  famil- 
iar scientific  category  of  causation  ?  Wh^'  not  say  that  a 
motion  of  the  molecules  of  nerve  matter  <-auscs  sensations  to 
arise  in  the  mind,  and  that  volition  acting  through  the  nie- 
ditnn  of  the  motor  nerves  causes  tlie  action  of  the  muscles  ?  The 
objection  has  been  already  indicated.  The  cause  of  motion 
in  a  nervous  molecule  is,  and  must  i)e,  a  preceding  motion  in 


—  II  — 

some  material  body.  In  this  sense  alone  'lo"s  causation  enter 
into  the  scientific  concejition  of  tilings.  The  particles  of 
matter  in  the  human  organism  are  caused  to  move  precisel}- 
as  are  all  the  other  particles  of  matter  in  the  universe.  And 
.so  also  the  effect  of  motion  is  other  motion.  Thus  we  are  for- 
bidden to  represent  to  oinselves  mind  and  body  as  mutually 
inter-acting  as  cause  and  effect,— their  lines  are  parallel  and 
can  never  intersect. 

Thus  the  physiologist  insists  on  the  impossibility  of  a  men- 
tal state  being  considered  as  in  any  intelligible  sense  the  cause 
of  a  movement  in  the  physical  organism,  and  the  force  of  his 
reasoning  is  indisimtable.  It  is  true  that  many  of  the  facts 
necessary  to  prove  that  the  molecules  of  matter  in  the  brain 
and  nerves  are  subject  to  the  same  conditions  as  are  all  other 
forms  of  matter  may  not  l)e  yet  forthcoming  ;  but  as  all  dis- 
coveries hitherto  made  tend  in  that  direction,  and  as  the  con- 
trary supposition— that  mind  in  some  way  intervenes  as  a  de- 
termining element  in  the  producticm  of  bodily  movements, — 
is  incompatible  with  the  hypothesis  of  the  conservation  of 
energy— an  hypothesis  which  investigation  in  all  the  fields  of 
physical  science  has  confirmed,  it  would  seem  that  the  accep- 
tance of  this  conclusion  is  inevitable. 

In  passing,  we  may  notice  that  the  cru<le  form  of  material- 
ism, not  unfrequently  met  with,  which  describes  the  i)lRnom- 
ena  of  consciousness  as  effects,  or  products,  of  matter  in  mo- 
tion, is  just  as  false  to  physical  .science  as  is  the  psychological 
assumption  that  the  former  is  "  cause  "  of  the  latter.  If  cau- 
sation is  a  category  applicable  to  the  relation  between  mind 
and  body,  its  application  cannot  be  limited  in  this  one-sided 
and  arbitrary  way.  If  a  psychical  change  can  h^  \.\\k:  effect 
of  a  physical  motion,  it  nurst  lie  a  link  in  the  chain  of  casual 
connection,— it  nuist  be  cause  as  well  as  effect. 

Let  us  now  see  what  can  be  said  in  defense  of  the  "com- 
mon-sense" view,  which  in  defiance  of  the  facts  brought  for- 
ward by  scientific  investigation,  persists  in  regarding  the 
connection  between  physical  and  mental  states  as  a  casual 
one.  That  this  is  the  view  of  maidcind  at  large  is  indisputa- 
ble ;  it  is  so  bound  up  with  our  every  day  siieech  that  the  most 


—  12  — 


ardent  l)L-liever  in  the  theory  of  concomitance  can  with  diffi- 
culty avoid  the  use  of  hmguage  which  implies  that  very  inter- 
action which   he  repudiates.     The   influence  of  mind   over 
matter,  the  efilot  oi  a  fit  of  dyspepsia  on  the  spirits,  the  pain 
caused  ])y   a  sprained  ankle— such  phrases  we  constantly  em- 
ploy, and  they  pass  unchallenged  by  the  most  critical  hearer. 
This  of  itself,  however,  is  far  from  conclusive  as  to  the  merits 
of  the  case  involved.     We  know  that  all  language  descriptive 
of  mental  ])henomena   was  originally  borrowed  from    terms 
properlv  apj^licable  only  to  material  things,  and  philosophy 
has  always  felt   the  difficulty  of  having  to  get  rid  of  the  pre- 
suppositions   lurking  in    its  very    ncmienclature.     Just  as  it 
jiroves  nothing  either  for  or  against  the  inunateriality  of  the 
soul  that  the  word  "  spirit "  originally   meant    "breath,"  so 
no  evidence  is  given  of  the  real   nature  of  the  bond  between 
mental  and  bodily  states  by   the  fact  that  in  ordinary  speech 
we  usually  designate  that  relation  as  a  casual  one. 

A  ^nore  serious  argument   nuiy  be   urged  in  favour  of  the 
casual  connection,  by  pcMuting  out  that,    witlumt  such  a  rela- 
tion we  can  get  no  rational  view  of  what  man  is.     We  may, 
it  is  true,  force  ourselves  to  the  belief  that,    as  regards  his 
bodily  organism,  man  is  an  automaton.     But  consciousness  is 
a  fact  wliich  can  neither  be  ignored  nor  denied.     What  then 
is  man   as  regards  his  conscious  life  ?     Is  his   mind  another 
automaton,  set  going  in  mysterious  agreement  with  the  bodi- 
ly machine  ?  or  are  mental   phenomena  events  disconnected 
with,  and  isolated  from,  each  other,  but  each  the  result  of  the 
state  of  the  physical  automaton  at  the  time?     The  latter  sup- 
position looks  suspiciously  like   an   attempt   to  let  sensation 
slip  in  at  a  postern  gate  after  ceremoniously  shutting  it  out  of 
the  front  door, — the  former  is  simply  a  return  to  the  old  met- 
aphysical solution  of  pree^tab'.ished  harmony  with   the  tlieo- 
logical    reference     which    constituted    its    sole    foundation, 
omitted. 

Notice  the  difficulty  :  if  mental  states  are  effects  of  changes 
in  the  Dhysical  organism,  then  no  further  explanation  is 
needed  of  the  fact  that  such  states  vary  in  intensity  and  in 
diu-ation  in  a  constant  ratio  to  changes  in  their  material  basis. 


13 


■ry  iiiter- 
iiul    over 
the  pain 
uitly  ein- 
il  hearer, 
lie  merits 
.'seriplive 
in   terms 
iiI()S()j)hy 
f  the  pre- 
[ust  as  it 
ily  of  the 
eaUi,"  so 
I  between 
ry  speech 

iir  of  the 
ch  a  reUi- 
We  may, 
gards  his 
ousiiess  is 
Vhni  then 
d  another 

the  bodi- 
eonneeted 
snlt  of  the 
latter  snp- 

sensation 
g  it  out  of 
i  old  met- 

the  th.eo- 
)undation, 

:)f  changes 
anation  is 
,ity  and  in 
.•rial  ])asis. 


But  if  this  is,  as  has  l)een  indicuted,  an  nnlciia1)!e  view,  then 
the  occurrence  of  a  certain  mental  phenomenon  must  either 
lie  nnc;;used,— that  is,  not  conditined  by  any  preceding 
even!,  or  it  must  be  due,  and  due  only,  to  a  preceding  mental 
pheuoniciion,  which  itself  must  be  similarly  referred' b.-ick  to 
a  previous  link  in  the  same  mental  chain.  Now  let  us  sec 
how  this  theory  works  when  applied  to  a  given  case.  I  have 
a  feeling  of  pain  which  appears  to  me  to  be  located  in  a  cer- 
tain part  of  my  body.  This  feeling  of  pain  is  a  mental  state. 
Is  this  mental  state  uncaused^.  It  at  least  appears  to  have 
effects.  I  am,  for  example,  led  to  think  of  and  desire,  some 
remedy  for  the  pain.  pM)ih  knowing  and  willing  thus  result 
from  the  feeling.  If  the  pain,  a  mental  slate,  be  a  cause  how 
can  it  not  be  an  effect  ?  Bui  we  are  shut  out  from  regarding 
it  as  an  effect  of  the  state  of  the  bodily  organism,— it  is  only  a 
"concomilant"  of  such  stale.  But  it  is  difficult,  to  say  the 
least,  to  see  how  my  present  feeling  of  pain  can  have  been 
"caused"  by  previous  m.-nlal  phenomena,  which  may  have 
been  quite  disconnected  with  this  painful  .sensation.  Perhaps 
I  awake  from  a  .sound  sleep  and  a  certain  feeling  or  .sensation 
arises.  As  far  as  we  can  .see  there  is  no  conceival)le  connec- 
tion between  the  new  state  of  feeling  and  the  blank  in  con- 
•sciousness  that  preceded  it.  • 

Still  more  difficult  to  explain,  on  the  theory  we  are  con.sid- 
ering,  is  the  fact  of  tl;e  first  rise  of  p.sychical  states  in  the  life 
of  the  individual.  If  the  law  of  causation  is  to  hold  in  the 
mental  sphere,  and  there  is  no  inter-action  behveen  the  phy- 
sical and  the  psychical,  then  v.hat  are  we  to  regard  as  the 
cau.e,  or  necessary  precedent  phenomenon,  of  the  first  faint 
stirring  of  feeling  in  ihe  earliest  dawn  of  the  individual  con- 
.sciousne.ss?  Are  we  forced  to  conclude,  either  that  mental 
I)henomena  are  not  causally  related  at  all,  or  that,  in  contra- 
(licli(jn  to  the  t'leory  of  i)arallelism  or  concomitance,  the  ear- 
liest feeling  is  caused  b\  tln'  motions  (jf  particles  of  matter  in 
tile  newly  formed  organism  ? 

If,  then,  science  forbids  us  to  describe  mental  states  as 
caused  by  changes  in  the  physical  organism,  and  we  cannot 
conceive  of  Ihem  as  in  all  instances  the  effects  of  previous  men- 


i 


r 


— 14— 

tal  states,  can  we  rationally  regard  them  as  not  being  caused 
at  all>     It  is  not  uncommon  to  see  the  statement  that  causa- 
tion is  onlv  legitimately  appl^'cable  to  the  relation  in  time  be- 
tween moving  bodies  or  particles  of  matter.     There  is  no  ob- 
jection to  this  limitation  of  the  category,  provided  always  we 
recognize  that  just  the  same  n.cessity  of  thought  which  causes 
us  to  connect  together  a  material  change  with  antecedent  ma- 
terial changes,  also  leads  us  to  make  a  similar  comiection  ni 
thought  between  anj'  phenomenon,  mental  as  well  as  mater- 
ial  a'iid  what  precedes  it.     It  is  only  when  we  realize  that 
causation  is  a  m^de  of  thought,— a  relation,   and  therefore, 
like  all  relations,  pertains  not  to  being  as  such,  but  to  our 
knowledge  of  being,  that  we  get  a  light  thrown  upon  this  dif- 
ficult sul)ject.     Then  we  see  that  the  applicability  of  causa- 
tion to  the  relation  between  'mind  and  body  is  but  a  question 
of  words.     The  facts  of  importance  and  of  indisputable  cer- 
tainty are  these  ;  mental  and  bodily  states  are  related,--phy- 
sical  changes  are  followed  by  physical  changes,  and  mental, 
by  mental  changes  ;  and  changes  in  the  one  series  occur  sim- 
ultaneously and  proportionately  with  changes  in  the  other 
series.     It  is  necessary  to  rational  thinking  that  these  rela- 
tions should  be  recognized,— to  know  any  phenomenon  what- 
ever, is  to  know  it  in  its  relations,— but  it  is  not  necessary  to 
call  any  or  all  of  these  relations,  causation.     I^et  the  physicist 
confine  causation  to  the  physical  sphere  exclusively,    let  the 
psychologist  if  he  will,  speak  of  the  "associative  power  "   of 
ideas,  and  let  the  synchronous  change  in  nervous  molecules 
and  conscious  feeling  be  described  as  the  "conditioning"  of 
the  one  by  the  other,— only  let  it  be  remembered  that  there  is 
nothing  specially  appropriate  in  these  uses  of  the  words.  Such 
language  is  but  the  clumsy  attempt  of  our  finite  intellect  to 
express,  in  this  one  instance,  the  universal  truth  that  rational 
knowledge  sees  nature,  not  as  composed  of  separated  and  iso- 
lated parts,  but  as  a  whole,  in  and  for  which  each  part  has  its 

existence. 

So  far  we  have  been  considering  the  facts  regarding  the  re- 
lation of  mind  and  body.  Can  we,  now,  present  any  hy- 
pothesis which  shall  account  in  an  intelligible  way  for  these 


$ 


I 


II g  caused 
at  causa- 
II  lime  be- 
i  is  no  ob- 
ihvays  we 
ich  causes 
edent  nia- 
nectiou  in 

as  mater- 

alize  that 

therefore, 

)Ut  to  our 

)n  this  dif- 

of  causa- 
i  question 
utable  cer- 
ted, — phy- 
.\d  mental, 
occur  sim- 
1  the  other 
these  rela- 
tion what- 
ecessary  to 
e  physicist 
:ly,    let  the 
power"   of 
I  molecules 
ioning"  of 
liat  there  is 
ords.  Such 
intellect  to 
lat  rational 
ted  and  iso- 
part  has  its 

ling  the  re- 
nt any  hy- 
ly  for  these 


—  15  — 

facts  ?     A  certain  coniplexus  of  material  particles  we  know 
as  a  hunian  organism  ;  a  certain  series  of  psychical  states  we 
know  as  the  corresi)ondiiig  human  mind.  We  have  compared 
the  mental  and  bodily  phenomena  to  two  parallel  lines,  a 
point  in  one  corresponding  to  a  point  in  the  other  ;  since  a 
change  in  a  mental  stale  coincides  in  time  with,  and  is  pro- 
portional in  intensity  to,  a  change  in  the  nervous  matter  of 
the  brain.     But  for  this  figure  we  may  substitute  another, 
that  of  a  curved  line,  the  concave  and  convex  sides  of  which 
picture  to  us  the  physical  and  mental  series  of  phenomena. 
The  sides  of  the  line,  as  such,  are  not  entities,  the  line  is  the 
unit,  they  are  only  asprr/s  of  the  line.     If  this  figure  is,  in 
truth,  applicable,  we  see  at  once  that  the  concomitance  of 
physical  and  psychical   is  unavoidal>le.     The  convexity  of 
the  line  does  not  "cause  "  the  concavity,  nor  does  the  change 
in  the  physical  state  "cause"  change  in  the  psychical  con- 
dition.    It  is  not  a  case  of  causation  but  of  identity.     Not 
that  the  corresponding  phenomena  of  mind  and  matter  are 
identical,  any  more  than  concavity  is  identical  with  convex- 
ity ;  the  two  are  totally  unlike,  yet  they  correspond  in  their 
difference   as   being  two   aspects,   two  sides,   of  one  thing. 
What  then  must  we  understand  by  the  line  itself?     The  an. 
swer  must  be,  the  person,  that  alone  constitutes  the  true  en- 
tity.    Consciousness  is  not  the   mere  accidental  offshoot  of 
nervous  processes,  as  the  materialist  has  asserted  ;  matter  is 
not  the  phantasmal  appearance  of  mind,   as  the  spiritualist 
sometimes  maintains  ;  each  is  a  side  of  reality,  and  differing 
from  its  fellow  as  an  aspect,  is  one  with  it  in  the  unity  of  the 
person. 

But  this  view  has  its  own  difficulties,  the  chief  of  which 
may  be  put  thus  :  How  is  it  that  changes  take  place  in  the 
particles  of  the  body,  and  even  in  the  centres  of  the  nervous 
system  when  there  is  apparently  a  total  absence  of  conscious- 
ness ?  Are  there  not  many  motions  on  the  physical  side  with- 
out any  concomitant  change  on  the  mental  side? 

The  theory  which  endeavors  to  satisfy  this  very  pertinent 
objection  to  the  "double-faced  unity  "  view  of  mind  and 
matter,  is  one  which  was  brought  forward  in  England  some 


i6 


years  .-igo  l)y  the  late  Pioll-ssor  ClifTord,  hut  wliicli  lias  per- 
haps ])i-cii  presented  with  more  of  seientific  caution,  and  on  a 
sounder  philosoi)liicaI  basis  by  the  great  German  ])hysiologist, 
Wnudt.  In  brief,  it  consists  in  the  assumption  that  a//  mat- 
ter has  not  only  a  physical  but  a  "  jjsychical  side,"— a  rudi- 
mentary feelitit^or  impulse—"  Trieb  "  in  Wundt's  language  ; 
and  that  in  rising  through  the  scale  of  evolution,  this  at  first 
mere  elementary  potentiality  of  feeling  becomes  more  and  more 
develojied  and  elaborated  till  the  highest  ])oint  is  reached  in 
man,  when  the  structure  of  the  nervous  system  is  most  com- 
plex and  intricate,  and  the  mental  consciousness  has  reached 
a  proportionate  stage  of  perfection.  This  hypothesis,  it  is 
evident,  not  only  suj^ports  the  physiologist  in  the  doctrine  of 
concomitance,  but  also  is  in  thorough  harmony  with  the  gen- 
eral tenor  of  the  evc^lutionary  view  of  the  universe.  As  Pro- 
fessor Clifford  points  out,  it  bridges  over  the  otherwise  im- 
passable chasm  between  conscious  and  unconscious  matter, 
between  sentient  and  non-sentient  life,  and  represents  the 
series  of  evolutionary  development,  on  its  mental  as  well  as 
on  its  physical  side,  as  a  continuou  ;,  unbroken  chain. 

It  has  been  held  that  this  hypothesis  requires  for  its  sup- 
port the  supposition  of  "  unconsci(ms  mental  states,"  in  order 
lo  enable  it  to  answer  satisfactorily  the  difficulty  already 
propounded,— namely,  the  intermittent  nature  of  conscious- 
ness itself.  Without  attempting  to  go  deeply  into  this  inter- 
esting but  obscure  question,  it  may  suffice  to  point  out  that, 
when  consciousness  is  suspended,  as  during  sleep  or  a  swoon, 
the  particles  of  matter  in  the  nervous  system  are  not  in  pre- 
c;sel>-  the  same  state  as  when  consciousness  is  present.  It 
cannot  be  too  much  empliasized  that  ^«r  consciousness  is  not 
constituted  by  detached  feelings  or  ideas.  When  we  are  con- 
scious, we  are  self-conscious,  there  is  a  thread  of  memory  string- 
ing together,  as  it  were,  the  present  momentary  feeling  with 
those  inunediately  preceding  it.  Memory  may  be  very  faint, 
the  feelings  it  recalls  very  simple  and  few,  but  while  we  are 
conscious  we  have  so/ne  memory.  Now  it  is  conceivable  that 
while  a  man  is  unconscious,  as  in  .sleep  or  in  a  fainting  fit,  the 
molecules  of  nervous  matter  in  his  brain  may  still  be  in  mo- 


:li  lias  per- 
il, and  on  a 
liysiolo^ist, 
at  all  mal- 
," — a  nuli- 

language  ; 
Ihis  at  first 
re  and  more 

reached  in 

most  coni- 
las  readied 
thesis,  it  is 

doctrine  of 
th  the  gen- 
■.  As  Pio- 
erwise  ini- 
)us  matter, 
cseiits    the 

as  well  as 
tin. 

for  its  sup- 
i,"  in  order 
ty   already 

eonscious- 

this  inter- 
it  out  that, 
)r  a  swoon, 
not  ill  pre- 
resent.  It 
ness  is  not 
ve  are  coii- 
iory  string- 
deling  with 
very  faint, 
lile  we  are 
ivable  that 
ing  fit,  the 

be  in  nio- 


linn  and  concomitant  psychical  slates  mav  occur,  but  these 
psychical  states  are  like  tliose  connected  with  low  organisms 
or  inorganic  atoms,  that  is  they  are  not  united  by  memory 
so  as  to  lonu  a  consciousness.  (JJnly  in  some  such  sense  docs 
tlie  conception  of  unconscious  mind  seem  tenable. 

If  this  theory  be  accepted  as  giving  us  on  the  whole  the 
most  rational  and  ade^piale  view  of  this  difficult  subject    two 
consecpieuces  must   follow  from    it.      First,   whatever  reality 
we   ascribe  to  the   body  must   also  be  ascribed  to  the  mind 
Jiud  VHc  versa.     And.  secondly,  the  mind  is  a  unitv  in  the 
same  sense,  and  only  in  the  .same  seu.se.  as  is  the  bo.lilv  or- 
ganism     Here,  as  in  the  ca.se  of  the  causal  relation  already 
referred  to,  we  must  n.^t  forget  that  such  categories  do  not 
exist   m   independence   of  knowledge.     We   form    a   unity 
whenever,  by  virtue  of  one  synthetic  power  we  gather  up 
olxserved  phenomena  into  one.     A  ganglion  cell  in  the  hu- 
man body  is  a  unit,  when  we  study  it  in  relation  to  other 
ganglion  cells  or  other  parts  of  the  organism,  but  the  mole- 
cules winch  make  up  the  matter  of  such  a  cell  are  also  units 
and  the  whole  human  body  is  itself  a  unit,  and  according  to 
the  theory  we  have  been  considering,   bodv  and  mind   to- 
gether constitute  the  still  higher  unity  of  the  person.     In  our 
•study  of  mind  we  may,   if  we  will,   observe  each  .separate 
psychical  state,  and  regard   the  mind  as  merely  a  series  of 
such  ;  but  if  we  are  studying  the  human  mind  in  comparison 
vvith  other  minds,  or  with  what  is  non-mental,  we  must  be 
able  to  recognize  such  mind  as  a  unitv,-not,  indeed   as  a 
simple,  indivisible  unity,  but  rather  as  one  that  is   hic-hly 
complex  and  susceptible  of  indefinitely  minute  aualvsis-but 
a  unity  for  ail  that. 


CIIAPTI-R  III. 


I'KRSOXALITV   AS  ,SIiL,K  COXSCIOUSNKSS. 


The  view  we  have  here  adopted,  that  personalilj'  is  the 
unity  of  which  iniud  and  Ixxly  are  the  two  ()p])o.site  sides  or 
aspects  opens  out  to  ns  new  prohleins.  We  have  hitlierlo 
considered  tlie  conjnnetion  of  physical  and  psychical  phe- 
nomena in  man,  but  we  are  at  once  confronted  by  the  ques- 
tion, whether  personality  is  limited  to  man  ?  If  so,  what  is  it 
which  differentiates  the  union  of  mental  and  botlily  ccjiiditions 
in  man,  from  what  is,  to  all  appearance  the  similar  luiion  in 
the  lower  animals?  In  the  dog,  just  as  truly  as  in  the  dog's 
master,  there  seem  to  be  the  signs  of  feeling,  sensations,  and 
memory, — reasoning  powers  of  soi..^  sort,  and  emotions  more 
or  less  strong.  The  body  of  the  dog,  as  far  as  we  can  judge, 
expresses  changes  in  the  mental  states,  just  as  does  the  body 
of  the  man.  Such  expressions,  it  is  true,  are  more  liable  to 
be  mis-read  by  tis  than  are  the  outward  indications  of  feeling, 
will  and  thought  in  our  fellowme!i  ;  but  we  also  are  liable 
to  error  in  our  efforts  to  interpret  the  significant  actions, 
words,  and  gestures  of  children  and  savages.  In  all  such 
cases  we  may  blunder  in  translating  the  physical  symbol  into 
its  psychical  equivalent,  but  this  has  no  bearing  on  the  fact 
of  there  being  such  an  equivalent.  Is  the  dog  then  a  person  ? 
It  is  certainly  contrary  to  all  usage  to  apply  the  term  to 
members  of  the  "brute  creation."  Here,  however,  as  else- 
where, we  nuist  remember  that  words  are  the  crystallizations 
o^  pixst  beliefs  ;  and  that  to  force  modern  conceptions  into  a 
Procrustiau  bed  of  verbal  forms,  is  to  make  words  our  nuis- 
ters  instead  of  our  .servants.  The  rise  and  growth  of  the 
evolutionary  theory  has,  within  the  last  half  century  totally 
altered  the  conception  of  our  relation  to  the  other  members 
of  the  animal  world.  The  diflferences  have  been  shown  to 
be  less,  the  resemblance  greater,  between  man  and  other  ani- 


—  19  — 


ilily  is  the 
e  sides  or 
L'  hillicrlo 
liical    plie- 

tlie  ques- 
,  what  is  it 
conditions 
r  union  in 

the  dog's 
ilions,  and 
)li()ns  more 
can  judge, 
s  the  body 
e  hable  to 
of  feeling, 
are  liable 
it  actions, 
1  all  such 
ynibol  into 
n  the  fact 
I  a  person  ? 
le  term  to 
r,  as  else- 
:allizations 
ons  into  a 
s  our  nias- 
vth  of  the 
iry  totally 
■  members 
shown  to 
other  ani- 


mals, than  had  previou.lv  been  surmised.     Hut  if,  as  science 
seems  i„  leach,  man  has  been  develnpc-d    in   acconlance   with 
natural    aw  from  (h.  brule.    if  morally,    uitellectuallv,    ami 
physR-aliy    there   is    no  absolute  chasm  between    the"lowest 
races  ol   man  an<l  certain  of  the  higher   forms  of  anin.al  life 
then  we  are  forced  lo  ask,  on  what  grounds  we   are  justified 
■'«  'Irawu.g  a  hard  and  last  line  at  this  one  point  in  Iheevolu- 
Intionary  series,  and  i„  asserting  that  aI,ove   this  is  complete 
Pus'.na bty.  while  Ik-Iow   it  there  is   none.     If.    however   we 
acknou  ledge  no  such  lindt.  then  at  what  stage  of  complexity 
intheorgaursn,    and  of  development   <,f  the  higher  mental 
faculties  Joes  personality   first  appear?     We  have   accepted 
as  at    east  probable   the   ass.unption   that   all    matter    has  a 
psyclncal  sule,"  yet  to  apply  personality  to  the  lower  forms 
'>r  -rgamc  life,  a.d  even  to  inorganic   particles   of  matter   is 
oin-iously  to  rob  the  notion  of  all  significance. 

We  nuisl,  therefore,  pn.ceed  lo  eonsider  the   ehief  eharac- 
tenst.e  marks  of  personality.     The  most  obvious  of  ihe^e  is 
seirec.nsciousness.     This,  as  has  been   frequentlv  pointed  out 
l>y  i.lnlosophical  writers,  is  the  one  fact  of  absolute  unchano- 
'■ig  certainty,  uhieh  we  seem  lo  know  in'uitively  as  the  pe- 
nianenl  elem.nl  in  our  cmslanlly   changing  states  of  mind 
\ct  when  we  art' asked  to  point  out   this  self  evident   fact  of 
our  mental  life,  we  can  only   reply  that  it  is  involved  in  our 
knowledge  of  such   mental  life  itself.      In   introspection  the 
.".nd  appears  as  a  series  of  sUUes.   of  internal  phenomena; 
tlie  tact  o-  self-eoncionsness  seems  to  be  just  ibis,  that  the 
slates  a;. W..SVVVV.-.     At  any  one  j.oint   t],ere  is  the  power  of 
recalling  certain  past  stales,  or.  m,.re  slrictlv  sneaking,  along 
with  the  appearance  of  a  state  there  is  the  feeling  tlmt  it   or 
one  reseml)lmg  it.  has  been  e.xperiet.ced   before.     When   this 
reterence  of    the  terms  to  one  another  is  present  there  is  a 
series   and  there  nnist  be  essentially   a   consciousness  of  the 
self,  that  ,s   of  a  permanency  in  the  fiu.x,  though  it  may  not 
be  more  than  very   vaguely   recognized.     If  <his  be  true   it 
follows  that  we  must  liold   the  essential  element  in  self-con- 
sciousness rs  nwnwry.     Munory  differs  as  we  all   know  in  an 
indefinite  degree  in  respect  to  its  clearness,  vivacity  and  e.v- 


—  20- 


tent,  1)ul  sonic  degree  of  the  power  of  recollection  sccnis  ab- 
solutely necessary  to  the  recognition  of  personal  identity.  If 
only  the  momentary  unrelated  sensation,  whatever  it  might  he, 
was  jiresent  at  the  time,— if  when  that  passed  it  passed  away 
wholly,  and  was  succeeded  by  another  in  which  equally  there 
was  no  reminiscence  of  any  past  state,  it  is  impossible  to  see 
how  self-consciousness  could  exist.  But  if  with  a  feeling 
there  comes  a  consciousness  that  it  is  like,  or  unlike,  a 
past  experience,  even  though  the  recognition  is  vague  and 
unformulated,  and  the  past  so  referred  to  was  only  that  im- 
mediately preceding  the  feeling  now  in  consciousness,  there 
is  thereby  constituted  a  consciousness  of  self,  which,  however 
rudimentary  and  simple,  is  the  same  in  kind  as  the  fully-de- 
veloped and  complex  self-consciousness  of  the  civilized  adult 
human  being.  If  this  be  so,  I  think  it  cannot  be  denied  that 
animals,  at  least  those  which  possess  highly  developed  organ- 
isms, are  self-conscious.  It  is  true  that,  as  we  descend  the 
scale  in  the  lower  forms  of  animal  life  we  find  reflex  action  to 
be  tl;e  basis  of  a  number  of  movements  which  at  first  sight 
appear  to  be  voluntarily  and  consciously  co  ordinated  ;  but 
the  assumption  that  the  actions  of  brutes  are  all  unaccom- 
panied by  self  consciousness — that  there  is  no  memory  of  even 
an  innnediate  jxist,  or  expectation  of  even  an  immediate  fu- 
ture— is  not  only  contradicted  by  observation,  but  is  irrecon- 
cilable with  the  scientific  conception  of  continuity  and  pro- 
gress in  psychical  life,  since  it  renders  impossible  any  evolu- 
tion in  the  mental  sphere  corresponding  to  that  in  the  physi- 
cal organism. 

?^Icmory  itself,  moreover,  is  not  a  jK)wer  which  suddenly 
appears  in  its  completeness  at  a  certain  level  in  the  ascending 
scale  of  animal  life.  It  appears  gradually,  at  first  in  a  form 
which  we  might  hesitate  to  call  memory  at  all.  Dr.  Romanes, 
in  his  work  on  "  Mental  Kvolulion  in  Animals,"  gives  an  in- 
teresting analysis  of  the  rise  of  memory,  which  he  holds  first 
appears  in  the  ascending  scale  of  animal  life  with  the 
Kchiuodermata,  and  in  the  individual  human  subject  din-ing 
the  first  week  after  birth. 

"  The  earliest  stage  of  true  or  conscious  memory  may,  T 


Kceiiis  ab- 
eiitity.  If 
t  might  I)e, 
issed  away 
ually  there 
iihle  to  see 
1  a    fechiig 

unlike,  a 
vague  and 
ly  that  ini- 
ncss,  there 
h,  however 
le  fully-de- 
hzcd  adult 
:lcnied  that 
)ped  orgau- 
escend  the 
?x  action  to 

first  sight 
nated  ;  but 
>  unacconi- 
lory  of  even 
nediate  fu- 

is  irrecon- 

y   and  pro- 

any  evolu- 

the  physi- 

h  suddenl}- 
^'  ascending 
t  in  a  form 
".  Romanes, 
^ives  an  in- 
:;  holds  first 
I  with  the 
iject  diu'ing 

nry  nuiy,  I 


thudc,  be  regarded  as  consisting  in  the  aftereffect  produced 
upon  a  sensory  nerve  by  a  stinndus,  which  after-effect,  so 
long  as  it  endures,  is  continuously  carried  up  to  the  sensorium. 
vSuch.  fur  instance,  is  the  case  with  after-images  on  the  retina, 
the  rd'ler-painof  a  blow,  etc." 

"  The  next  stage  of  memory  that  it  appears  to  me  possible 
to  distinguish  by  any  definite  interval  from  the  first  named,  is 
that  of  feeling  a  present  sensation  to  1  e  like  a  past  sensation. 
lu  order  to  do  this  theie  may  be  no  memory  of  the  sensntion 
between  the  two  .successive  occasions  of  its  occurrence,  and 
neither  need  there  be  any  a.ssociation   of  ideas.     Only   this 
takes  place.     When  the  sensation  recm-s  the  second,   third 
or  fuivth  time,  etc.,  it  is  recognized  as  like  the  sensation  when 
It  oceurred^the  first  time-  as  like  a  sensation  which  is  not  un- 
lannliar.     Thus,  for  example,  according  to  vSigisnnuid,  who 
has  devoted   nuicli  carefid   attention    to  the   psvchogenesis  of 
uifanls,  it  appears  that  the  sweet  taste  of  milk' being  remem- 
bered  by  newly-born    infants,   ciiuses   them   to   prefer   sweet 
tastes  in  general  to  ta^tes  of  any  (;tlier  kind."   fp.  114.) 

Dr.  Romanes  then  proceeds  to  show  that  the   next  staue  of 
the  nascent  memory  is  the  recognition  of  a  sensation   as'un- 
bke   a  p;;st  .sensation,  and  continiies  :    "It   will  be   observed 
that  in  dealing  with  these  singes  of  memory   in   very  young 
nifants,  where  as  yet  no  a.s.sociation  can  either  be  suppcised  to 
be  present  or  is  needed  to  explain   the   facts,  we   at   once  en- 
counter the  (■nestinn  whether  the  memory  is  to  be  considered 
as  really  due   to   iu(]i\iclMal  ex])erience,   or  as  an    hereditary 
endowment,  i.  e.,  an  insiinct.     And  here  it  becomes  apj.osile 
to  refer  to  the  old  and  highly  interesting  experiment  of  (:',;den, 
wbicli  definitely  answers  this  question  with  lelerence  to  ani- 
inals.      lM,r  s,  .on  after  iis  l>irth,  and  before  it  had  ever  sucked, 
Galen  look  a  kid  and  placed  before  it  a  row  (^f  similar  basins,' 
filled  re.-^iiectively  with   milk,   wine,   oil,    honey,    and    fiour.' 
The  kid,  ai'ter  examining   the   basins  bv   smell,  .selected  the 
one  whi.  h  was  nlled  with  nu'lk.     This  unquesticinably  proves 
tlie  fact  of  hereditary  memory,  or  in.stinct,  in  the  ca.s'e  (  f  the 
kid  ;  and  therefore  it  is  probable  that  the  same,  at  all  events 
ij)  pan,  applies  tr.  the  ca,-,e  of  the  cliild."      "But  allhoni-h  Nxe 


—  22  

freely  admit  tluit  the  memory  of  milk  is,  at  all  events  in 
large  part,  hereditary,  it  is  none  the  less  memory  of  a  kind 
and  occnrs  without  the  association  of  ideas.  In  other  words 
hereditary  memory  or  instinct  belongs  to  ^YhatI  have  marked 
off  as  the  second  and  third  stages  of  conscious  memory  in  the 
largest  acceptance  of  the  term.  The  stages,  that  is,  where, 
without  any  association  of  ideas,  a  present  sensation  is  per- 
ceived as  like,  or  unlike  a  past  one.  It  makes  no  essential 
diiference  whether  the  jiast  sensation  was  actually  experienced 
by  the  individual  itself  or  bequeathed  to  it,  so  to  speak,  by  its 
ancestors."  (pp.   115-116). 

This  account  brings  before  us  the  gradual  dawn  of  the  be- 
ginnings of  memory.  And  we  must  believe  that  .self-con- 
sciousness, like  U'-mory,  docs  not  appear  suddenly  in  its  com- 
plete and  fully  develop<ed  form  at  any  one  stage  of  develop- 
ment, either  in  the  series  of  living  organisms  in  general,  or  in 
that  of  the  individual  life.  We  can  discern  the  potentiality 
of  .self-con.sciousness  even  in  such  imperfect  and  elementary 
forms  of  memory  as  those  which  Dr.  Romanes  describes 
above.  It  would  .seem,  however,  that  we  can  hau'.ly  sj^eak 
of  self-consciousness  as  actually  ])resent  till  theie  is  a  distinct- 
ly individual  memory— that  is,  till  a  feeling  is  not  only 
vaguely  felt  to  l)e  familiar,  as  iu  the  case  of  instinctive  or 
racial  memory,  but  as  similar  to,  or  differing  from  another 
feeling  which  must,  therefore,  be  somehow  pi.j;;ent  to  con- 
sciousness along  with  the  second  feeling.  But,  be  that  as  it 
nuiy,  I  think  we  can  conclude  that  the  con.sciousness  of 
self  in  its  .simplest  and  most  elementary  form  is  deiiendent 
upon,  and  involved  in  memory.  And  such  self-consciousne.ss 
is  a  necessary  factor  in  the  notion  of  personality.  Whether 
or  not  we  accept  Dr.  Rouumes'  view  as  to  the  precise  stage 
at  whicli  memory  begins  is  unimportant  to  our  present  pur- 
pose. With  the  limited  knowledge  we  as  yet  possess  of  ani- 
nud  psychology  such  assignments  of  the  beginnings  of  par- 
ticular faculties  to  organisms  of  a  certain  complexity  nuist  at 
the  best  be  largely  guesswork.  What  we  wi.sh  toemi)hasize 
however,  is  that  at  so))n'  jioint  in  the  evolutionary  series  ol 
aninudlife  and  iu  the  develoiiuieut  of  the  individual,  memory 


I 


23 


events  in 
of  a  kind 
tlicr  words 
ve  marked 
iiory  in  the 
is,  where, 
ion  is  per- 
D  essential 
x]ierienced 
eak,  l)y  its 

of  the  Ije- 
it  self-con - 
in  its  coni- 
)f  develop- 
iicral,  or  in 
)otentialit\' 
?lenientar\' 

describes 
dly  speak 
a  distinct- 
;  not  only 
tinctive  or 
ni  another 
nt  to  con- 
;  that  as  it 
onsness  of 
dependent 
iscionsness 

Whether 
ecise  stage 
resent  i)uv- 
sess  of  ani- 
igs  of  par- 
ity must  at 
emphasize 
y  series  of 
U,  memory 


Ixjcomes'an  established  fact.  Before  this  point  is  reached 
there  may  be.  it  is  true,  isolated  psychical  phenomena  con- 
nected with  the  individual  organism,— as  we  have  seen  it  is 
impossible  to  assert  that  any  material  body  is  without  at  least 
a  potentiality  of  feeling, — but  in  our  account  of  personality 
we  may  leave  all  such  lower  forms  of  conscious  life  out  of 
account  as  they  can  in  no  inlclligil)!e  sense  be  said  to  pertain 
to  persons.  Al)ove  this  lowest  limit  we  must  recognize  self- 
consciousness  as  gradually  increasing  in  strength  and  clear- 
ness. If  we  assert  that  the  ant,  the  dog,  or  the  elephant  has 
in  all  probability  a  consciousness  of  self  we  do  not  imply  by 
any  means  that  we  are  justified  in  attributing  to  the  minds  of 
these  animals  that  knowledge  of  self  which  we  possess.  But, 
on  the  other  hand,  neither  have  we  any  ground  ^or  assuming 
that  the  savage  or  the  infant  has  this  consciousness  in  as  full 
and  complete  a  measure  as  has  the  adult,  civilized,  and  edu- 
cated man.  What  we  claim  is  merely  that  there  appear  tobe 
no  sufficient  grounds  for  arbitrarily  limiting  the  possession  of 
this  faculty  to  tlie  human  race,  and  attributing  it  to  the  whole 
of  the  race. 

Our  general  conclusion,  then,  may  be  summed  up  in  the 
assertion  that  sclf-consci(Misness  is  a  necessary  element  in  the 
concept  of  personality,  that  it  is,  in  its  simplest  form  depend- 
ent upon  memory,  and  appearing  first  at  some  stage  of  de- 
v-'loped  organism  lower  than  that  of  man,  grows  in  clearness 
and  completeness,  till  it  reaches  its  climax  in  a  perfectly 
tran  parent  insight  into  the  nature  and  powers  of  the  self. 


!I1 


CHAPTER  IV. 


PERSONALITY   AS   INDIVIDUAL   CHARACTER. 


Ifi 


It  would  be  interesting  if  our  space  permitted  to  endeavor 
to  trace  out  in  detail  the  gradual  growth  of  an  ever  truer  and 
more  concrete  personalit}-  in  the  animal  world,  from  the  first 
dim  and  hardl}'  discernible  dawn  of  self-knowledge  up  to  the 
wonderftd  and   In'gldy  complex   mind  of  the  fully  developeil 
man.     The  study  of  animal  psychology,  in  spite  of  its  in- 
numerable difficulties,  offers   a   vast   and  rich   field  to   the 
patient  inquirer.     That  much  has  already  been  done  in  this 
direction  is  known  to  all  readers  of  Darv>-in,  Lul)bock,  Ro- 
manes and  Wundt.     The  mental  history  of  the  child  has  also 
been  carefully  and  patiently  studied  b}-  such  competent  ob- 
.servers  as  Sully,  Perez,  and  Preyer.     But  we  nuist  content 
ourselves  1)y  a  bare  reference  to  the  fiict,  abundantly  proved 
by  the  writers  just  mentioned,  that  not  only  self-conscious- 
ness l)ut  all  the  properties  of  mind,  knowing,  feeling  and 
willing,  appear  first  in  rudimentary  and  imperfect  forms,  and 
graduall)'  grow  and  develop  ;  and  that  so  far  as  we  can  .see 
these  functions  with  which  we  are  familiar  in  ourselves,  have 
their  counterparts,   in   various  degrees  of  .strength    and  vi- 
vacity, in  the  mental   lives  of  nuuiy  .species  of  brutes.     If 
then  we  suppose  that  not  only  self-con.sciousness,   but  also 
feeling  or  the  consciousness  of  pleasure  and  pain,  and  will  or 
power  of  voluntary  action,  are  necessary  to  personality,  it  will 
not  affect  the  conchision  we  have  already  drawn,— namely, 
that  it  is  a  purely  artificial  distinction  to  make  {x^rsonality 
co-extensive  with  the  human   race — to  limit  it  to  man  otdy, 
and  to  hold   it  to  be  equally  approj^riate  to  the  individual 
human  being  at  the   earliest  stage  of  his  existence  as  to  the 
adult  in  the  full  possession  of  his  meiUal  and  bodily  powers 
No  psychologist,  perhaps,  has  better  expressed  the  gradual 


I 


I 


iR. 

:o  endeavor 
r  truer  and 
)m  the  first 
,e  up  to  the 
•  developed 
e  of  its  iii- 
leld   to    the 
one  in  this 
I)bock,  Ro- 
Id  has  also 
ipeteut  oh- 
ist  content 
ith'  proved 
-conscious- 
eel  ing  and 
forms,  and 
ve  can  see 
-^Ives,  have 
h   and  vi- 
jrutes.     If 
,   but  also 
ind  will  or 
lity,  it  will 
— naniel}', 
x;rsonalily 
man  only, 
individual 
e  as  to  the 
\y  power-;. 
le  gradual 


luifoldiiig  of  the  conscious  personality  than  has  the  author  of 
"  In  Memoriam  :" 

"  The  baby  new  to  earth  and  sky. 
What  time  his  tender  palm  is  prest 
Against  the  circle  of  the  breast, 
Has  never  thought  that  '  this  is  I.' 

But  as  he  grows  he  gathers  nnich, 
And  learns  the  use  of  '  I'  and  '  me,* 
And  finds,  '  I  am  not  what  I  see. 
And  other  than  tlie  things  I  touch." 

So  rounds  he  io  a  separate  viind 
broil  wheiiee  clear  n/eiuory  may  be^'i'n, 
As  thr&  the  frame  that  binds  hun  in 
His  isolation  gro-d's  dejined." 

Turning  our  attention,  however,  from  the  limits  of  person- 
ality, let  us  now  examine  that  aspect  of  it  which  consists  in 
individual  character.  In  oiu'  every-day  consciousness  we 
distinguish  more  or  less  clearly  the  ego,  or  subject  of  knowl- 
edge, from  the  things  we  know — the  objects  of  knowledge. 
But  the  crudest  attempt  at  an  analysis  of  the  relations  of  sub- 
ject and  object  makes  it  manifest  that  the  objects  we  know 
are,  as  siieh  parts  of  our  mental  life,  parts  of  the  stream  of 
impressions  w'lich  in  their  relatedness  as  a  series  constitute, 
in  Kanlean  phraseology,  our  "empirical  ego."  But  besides 
these  objects  (^f  perception,  there  are  certain  r^-alities  known 
to  the  subject  to  exist,  though  not  directly  to  be  ix^rceived  l)y 
it ;  such  are  minds  other  than  itself  CUfford  called  these 
other  minds  "ejects,"  as  indicating  that  they  are  not  "in" 
the  percipient  mind  as  ol)jects  are,  but  rather  are  realities 
"  out  oi  "  consciousness.  The  term  hardly  seems  a  satisfac- 
tory one,  since  these  other  minds  are.  as  known,  as  much 
"in"  the  minil  of  tlie  knower  as  are  any  "objects."  The 
linlh  is  that  those  apparently  harndess  little  prepositions, 
"in"  and  "out,"  as  used  in  reference  to  mental  synthesis, 
are  reS])onsible  for  no  slight  con firsion  of  thought.  But  what 
we  are  hero  concerned  to  notice  is  the  apparently   absolute 


f 


26  — 


separation  wliicli  seems  to  exist  ])et\veen  the  scries  of  con- 
scious states  constituting  one  mind,  and  llie  more  or  less 
similar  series  which  make  up  another.  The  life  of  each  in- 
dividuil  seems  a  thing  apart — a  something  impenetrable  by 
all  others.  "  Kach  in  his  hermit  cell  we  live  alone." 
Whether  this  isolation  is  as  complete  as  we  are  disposed  to 
regard  it— whether  it  represents  the  truth  and  the  whole 
truth — we  shall  have  occasion  to  consider  later.  It  is  cer- 
tainly an  assumi)lion  generally  made  that  the  individuality 
of  each  person  is  thorough  and  inviolable. 

But  it  is  not  individuality  as  mere  separateness  of  the  self 
which  constitutes  the  most  striking  feature  of  personality. 
It  is  rather  such  individuality  as  the  necessary  basis  for  per- 
sonal character.  One  man  is  not  only  not  identical  with 
another,  he  is  also  not  exactly  similar  to  any  other.  iCach 
has  his  own  distinctive  marks,  mental,  moral,  and  physical, 
his  own  habits,  ]>references,  modes  of  speech,  gesture  and 
action,  which  make  him  the  man  he  is,  or  in  popular  lan- 
guage constitute  his  personality.  To  character,  then,  let  us 
turn  our  attention. 

If  we  ask  concerning  the  '"  whence  "  of  any  man's  char- 
acter we  can  be  referred  back  to  but  two  sources, — the 
original  nature  of  the  man,  and  the  circumstances  under 
whicii  that  nature  has  developed.  These  two  factors  then 
we  nuist  examine  in  order  to  arrive  at  any  rational  interpreta- 
tion of  what  constitutes  individual  character. 

First,  let  us  consi<ler  the  original  nature  of  a  man.  That 
this  differs  widely  in  different  men  is  indisputable.  Two 
children  l)rought  up  together  from  infancy  1)y  the  same  per- 
sons, dressed  alike,  fed  alike  and  tauglit  alike,  will  by  no 
means  develo])  precisely  the  same  character,  tliough  there  will 
almost  cerlainK-  be  many  points  <jf  resemblance  iluc  to  their 
conmion  environment.  Nor  can  there  be  much  donbt  as  to 
the  source  whence  these  innate  differences  spring.  Scientific 
ol)scrvalion  and  every  day  experience,  alike  i)oint  to  heredity 
as  the  explanation.  In  a  modified  and  limited  form  this  is 
acknowledged  by  all.  No  one  denies  that  many  mental  and 
moral,  as  well  as  physical,  trails  are  lianded  down  from  pa- 


fi..__. 


1 


—  27  — 

rents  to  cliildren.     But  it  is  sometimes  not  so  clearly  .seen  that 
ii-Z/the  cliaracleristics  which  a  child  has  potentially,  at  birth, 
are  inherited  by  it.     Nor  is  it  to  be  wondered  at,  if  this  view 
is  not  generally  accej^ted  ;  to  prove  directly,  by  definite  ex- 
amples that  such  is  the  case  is  practically  impossible,  and 
^/'/)rt!/w/'exce])tions  must  have  been  noticed  by  every  one. 
Tile  whole  subject  is  one  of  g-reat  obscurity.     Well  attested 
cases  may  indeed  be  quoted  where,  for  instance,  some  excep- 
tional talent  has  remained  with  a  family  for  generations,  the 
Herschels,  the  Landseers,  the  Pitts,  the  Mills,  are  familiar  in- 
.' lances  ;  yet  it  .seems  as  though  heredity   failed  to  explain  a 
class  of  cases  where  we  should  a  priori,  have  expected  to  be 
able  to  trace  its  course  most  clearly,  namely,  where  there  is 
that  abtmdance  of  creative  power  which  we  call  genius.    How 
are  we  to  accoimt  for  a  vShakesi)ere  or  a   Michael  Angelo 
sjMinging    from     comparatively    connnon  place     parentage? 
Why  should  John  Keats,  the  son  of  a   London   livery  stable 
keeper,  brought  up  amid  .sordid  stnroundings,  develop   the 
beauty-loving  soul  of  an  ancient  Greek  ?     Characters,  too,  of 
extraordinary  moral  beauty  are  s(mietimes  met   with  where 
the  most  degraded  qualities  might  have  been  expected  from 
the  working  of  the  laws  of  heredity.     Accordingly,  so  keen 
a  i)sycliological  student  as  Browning  has  not  hesitated  to  re- 
present to  us  the  heroine  of  "The  Ring  and  the  Book,"  a 
woman  of  spotless  purity  and  showing  the   most  unquencha- 
ble motlier-l()v..%  as  the  daughter  of  a  prostitute  who  sells  her 
own  child.     But  apparent  exceptions  should  not  blind  us  to 
the  truth  that  the  real  and  only  answer  to  the  j^roblem  does 
lie  in  this  law,  even  though  the  extreme  difficulty  of  exam- 
ining all  the  complex  circumstances  that  must  be  taken  into 
account,  renders  it  impossible  in  many  instances  to  trace  out 
its  workings.     The  known  facts,  that  qualities  often  lie  dor- 
mant for  generations,  and  then  reappear  :  that  the  character- 
istics of  one  parent  may  either  nullify  or  intensify  in  the  child 
those  of  the  other,  that  accidental  and  temporary  causes  may 
MuhK-e  important  variations  in  the  offspring— all   render  the 
problem  of  tracing  back  the  mental  and  moral  peculiarities 
ot  an  individual  to  their  .sources  in  the  characters  of  parents 


28 


m 


ii 


vl'l 


"Mi 


or  ancestors  an  iiukfiniUly  coini)lex  one.  None  the  less  a 
little  attention  will  convince  us  that  from  such  sources  every 
potentiality  of  mental  and  moral  qualities  in  the  child  must 
have  been  transmitted.  F<n-  what  other  origin  is  possible? 
None  is  conceiva1)le,  unless  we  assume  a  special  intervention 
of  the  Deity  at  the  stai  '  ^.^-point  of  each  luunan  life.  But  it 
surely  is  not  only  more  in  accordance  with  scientific  thought, 
but  shows  a  more  worthy  conception  of  the  divine  order  in  the 
vmiverse,  to  recognize  events  as  following  natural  causes  and 
obeying  natural  laws.  G;)d's  power  is,  indeed,  manifested 
in  tlie  coming  into  existence  of  a  new  human  soul,  but  is  it 
not  as  truly  manifested  in  the  new-born  insect  as  in  the  new- 
1)orn  cliild?  Is  it  not  as  lrul>'  shown  in  the  preservation  and 
growth  of  the  indivi(Uial  mind  as  in  its  creation  ?  If  the  for- 
mer proceed  by  natural  means,  why  not  the  latter?  We 
nmst,  tlierefore,  it  would  seem,  conclude  that  all  the  qualities 
and  powers  that  make  up  an  individual's  character,  so  far  as 
they  exist  potentially  in  him  from  the  first  dawn  of  life,  are 
inlierited  from  parents,  or  through  them,  from  more  remote 
ruicestors. 

Secondly,  we  have  the  scarcely  less  powerful  influence  on 
character  which  consists  in  what  in  its  totality  we  call  the 
environment  of  the  individual.  If  it  is  well  nigh  impossible 
to  reckon  up  all  the  factors  which  determine  the  inherited 
character,  it  is  utterly  beyond  our  power  to  compute  all  the 
influences  due  to  the  complex  surroundings  in  which  in  civil- 
ized society  the  individual  is  brought  uj).  Not  only  the 
great  moulding  forces  of  national,  social  and  family  life,  edu- 
cation climate,  and  food  affect  the  growing  and  ever  changing 
character.  Kvents  so  seemingly  trifling  that  they  seem  hard- 
ly noticed, — words  heard  and  .soon  forgotten — the  sight  of  a 
beautiful  object — the  hearing  of  a  terror-inspiring  story — any 
of  these  may  have  consequences  which  inii)rint  themselves 
on  the  whole  after  life-history  of  the  child.  More  or  less  un- 
conscious imitation  of  tho.^e  al)out  him  may  aflect  the  moral 
character  to  an  indefinite  extent,  and  .sometimes  decides  the 
tastes  and  life-long  pursuits  more  than  does  any  innate  and  in- 
heriied  aptitude.     It  is  often,  indeed,  diflicult  to  say  whether 


—  29 


the  prevailing  1)eiit  of  a  man's  dmracler  is  more  diiL'  to  iii- 
lierited  qualities  or  to  the  innueiices  which  have  sunouiuk-cl 
him  in  his  earlier  years.  M.  Rihot,  in  his  interesting  ))()()k 
on  Heredity,  gives  in  his  list  of  cases  of  inherited  taluiU  some 
exanii-les  in  which,  probably,  the  true  determining  force  was 
that  of  environment.  vSuch  are  the  numerous  cases  referred 
to  where  a  man  of  genius  has  had  a  son  who  has  followed 
his  father's  calling  with  considerable  success,  a  by  no  meairs 
rare  occurrence  with  celebrated  painters,  politicians,  soldiers, 
etc.  We  can  easily  .ste  how  the  constant  sight  of  the 
parent's  success  might  stinudate  the  son  to  follow  in  the  same 
path,  while  the  father  would  often  be  in  a  position  to  further 
his  .son's  ambition.  In  such  instances  it  may  be  hard  to  sav 
how  nuich  is  due  to  inherited  talent  and  how  much  to  favc^r- 
ing  circumstances. 

No  one,  probaI)ly,  will  be  disposed  to  deny  that  heredity 
and  environment  have  important  influences  in  determining  the 
personal  character  of  every  man.  Are  they,  or  are  they  not, 
the  w/j' factors  to  be  reckoned  with.  Is  it  the  fact  that, 
given  a  full  and  exact  knov.ledge  of  the  nature  which  a  man 
has  iidrerited  from  his  ancestors,  and  given  also  a  knowledge 
equally  complete  and  detailed  of  all  the  circumst.uices  which 
have  formed  his  environment,— his  character  might  be  de- 
duced from  lhe.se  data  with  mathematical  accuracy,  and  his 
action  in  any  given  case  foretold  with  the  utmost  certainty 
and  precision  ?  This  question  brings  us  face  to  face  with  that 
most  difficult  ethical  problem  which  is  usually  di>cusse(l 
under  the  .somewhat  misleading  title  of  "  the  frtedcm  of  the 
will."  In  view  of  the  importance  of  will  as  an  element  (A 
personality,  we  cannot  altogether  avoid  this  subject,  however 
hopele.s.s  it  may  seem  to  try  to  throw  any  new  light  upon  this 
often  examined  but  still  obscure  theme. 

Were  it  not  for  the  ethical  difikulties  which  seem  to  follow 
from  what  is  connnonly  called  the  Determinist  doctrine,  it 
would  probably  long  ago  have  met  with  a  reaily  acceptance. 
We  willingly  grant  the  enormous  influence  of  innncdiate  sur- 
roundings upon  the  character,  especially  in  >  outh.  Moralists 
thenrselvcs  never  wearv  of  dilating  on  the  effects  of  uood  and 


m 


l)a(l  example  upon  the  child.  Nor  is  it  denied  tliat  VQry 
many  menial  and  moral  cpialilies  and  apliUides  are  trans- 
milted  from  one  generation  to  another.  I'nt  when  we  are 
asked  to  go  a  step  farther  and  to  believe,  for  e.xample,  that  a 
thief  is  a  thief  simply  because  his  partnts  were  dishonest, 
and  he  thus  inherited  a  tendency  to  dishonesty  which  tenden- 
cy the  surroundings  in  which  he  was  brought  up  inevitably 
developed,  so  that  the  theft  committed  was  the  natin-al  and 
necessary  effect  of  given  causes,— Ihis  is  a  conclusion  that 
seems  to  take  from  us  both  the  right  and  the  power  to  form 
moral  judgments.  The  man  is  responsible  neither  for  his 
innate  disposilion  nor  for  the  circumstances  in  which  he  is 
placed.  Can  we  blame  him  that  the  desire  for  another  man's 
l>roperty  was  a  stronger  motive  than  the  restraining  desire 
for  right  doing,  if  both  desires  came  from  sources  quite  be- 
yond his  control  ?  Nay  more,  can  we  praise  tlie  man  who 
resists  a  temptation  to  dishonesty  if  in  his  case  too  the  supe- 
rior strength  of  his  concientiou  scruples  over  his  covetous 
desire  was  merely  a  natural  result  of  causes  in  the  original 
production  of  which  he  l:ad  no  share  ? 

And  the  question  is  not  one  of  only  a  theoretical  and 
l-)hilosoi)hical  interest,  it  entails  consequences  of  the  utmost 
practical  importance.  In  fact,  mau}^  who  never  trouble 
themselves  over  the  general  i)rol)leni  of  Libertarianisni  and 
Determinism  are  often  sorely  peqilexed  by  this  question  of 
moral  responsibility  as  it  meets  them  in  individual  cases.  The 
man  who  iidierits  a  drunkard's  tastes,  the  woman  reared 
among  impure  and  degraded  associates — these  we  feel  are  to 
be  pitied  rather  than  blamed  fur  their  inevitable  fall.  In 
such  cases  we  can  clearly  trace  the  connecting  links  between 
cause  and  effect.  But  other  instances  we  meet  with  in  which 
there  are,  as  we  say,  no  extenuating  circumstances.  The 
man  of  respectable  family  and  well  brought  up,  as  far  as  we 
can  judge,  commits  some  crime  that  fills  us  with  loathing 
or  contempt.  Are  we  to  assume  here  that  there  are  no  de- 
termining causes,  or  not  rath.er  that  they  are  hid  from  us  by 
the  limitations  of  our  knowledge  ?  Tlie  cause  is  the  wicked- 
ness of  the  criminal's  nature,  it  will  be  urged,   and  our   de- 


—  31 


tcstalioii  of  liis  crime  is  a  wholesome  and  just  iiisliiK-t  of  our 
more  healthy  nature.     True  ;    l)ut    wlauce  came  the  crimi- 
luU's  wickedness  ;— from  some  jiast  indulL;ence  in  evil  ?  Very 
probably,  but  that  is  only  to  u(,  back  to  a  previous  link  in  the 
chain,  and  we  meet  a>;ain  the  cpiestion  as  to  whv  he  chose  to 
indulge  in  evil,  till  at  last  we  are  forced  to  fall  b'ack  upon  the 
two-fold  source  of  inherited  nature  and  determining  environ- 
ment, for  neither  of  which  can  the  man  be  held  accountable. 
On  the  other  Imnd,  however,  when  we  turn  away   our  at- 
tention from  the  conduct  of  others,  and  fix  it  upon  Our  own 
inner  life,  nothing  appears  more  clear  and   indisputal)le  than 
our  p(nver  of  choice  in  any  >;iven   instance  in  which   two  or 
more  courses  of  action  are  being  ctjusidered.     Another  may 
sny  of  me,  I  know  that  in  such  a  case  you  will  do  so  and  so, 
and  I  either  acknowledge  the  truth  of  what  he  says  or  attri- 
bute his  error    to  his    insufficient   knowledge   eifhcr   of  my 
character  or  of  the  circumstances  of  the  supposed  case.    But, 
none  the  less,   there  is  immediately  present   to  my  conscious- 
ness when  the  time  of  decision  comes  the  possibility  of  the 
alternative  course  of  action.     I  will  do  .  /,  but  I  could  do  /y, 
the  very  fact  of  a  decision  being  made  implies  this.     We  are 
free  agents,    if  consciousness  of  a  j^owcr  to  choose  between 
two  or  more  courses  of  action  constitutes  freedom. 

It  is  useless  to  ignore  the  contradiction  of  these  two  \-iews, 
or  to  minimize  the  importance  of  either  side.  If  we  are  to 
.solve  the  problem  it  can  only  be  by  boldly  confronting  the 
antithesis  and  wresting  from  it  its  heart  (jf  truth.  Man  Is  de- 
termined, man  is  conscious  of  freedom.  Unless  we  acknowl- 
edge that  man's  actions  are  effects  of  forej^oing  causes,  we 
can  have  no  science  of  ethics.  Unless  we  assume  that  man  is 
free,  we  can  form  no  ethical  judgments. 

Let  us  look  first  at  the  latter  alternative.  Suppose  we  can 
form  no  ethical  judgments,  what  then?  This  will  signify 
that  when  we  say  a  man  is  good  or  bad  we  are  only  ex- 
pressing, as  it  were  in  short  hand,  the  complex  ixsults  of  a 
number  of  facts, — often  by  us  known  but  obscurely  or  not  at 
all— of  his  and  his  ancestor's  lives,  the  total  product  (;f  which 
we  sum  up  in  the  word  "good,"   or   "bad."     The  man  is 


—  32  — 


I 


wliat  lu-  is,  liis  paauts  before  him  were  what  tluy  were,  as 
llie  ine\it;il)le  n  snll  of  ciieninstances  over  whieh  they  had 
no  coiiliol,  -  for  jtroperly  si)eakiii^  they  cannot  be  said  to 
have  had  loulrol  over  anything.  The  nniver.^e.  in  this  view, 
jjresenls  the  aspects  of  a  vast  and  coniphcated  machine  of 
which  the  indivi(Uial  forms  a  tiny  part, — like  a  httle  cogwheel 
let  ns  suppose, — set  in  motion  by  the  force  of  the  machine  and 
in  turn  transmitting  this  force  to  other  poitions  of  the  great 
mechanism.  To  praise  or  blame  the  wheel  for  turning  in  one 
direction  rather  than  in  the  other,  is  absiu'd  ;  it  acts  as  it  nuist 
act.  Resj  onsibility  rests  alone  with  the  maker  and  controller 
of  the  whole  machine. 

Nor  isthis\icw  one  to  be  lightly  set  aside  with  a  contempt- 
nous  phrase  as  "mere  fatalism,"  or  denonnced  as  false  and 
"dangerous."  It  rei)resentsa  mcst  imjiortant  truth, — a  truth 
which  science  in  the  present  day  cNcrywhere  proclaims,  and 
which  theology  in  the  i)ast  has  by  no  means  overlooked.  In 
science  we  call  it  the  supremacy  of  I/iw,  in  religion  the  om- 
nipotence of  God.  Predestination  is  merely  the  theological 
s_\n(Mi}in  for  determinism.  "Shall  theclaysay  unto  the  potter 
why  hast  thou  made  me  thus?"  or,  "what  hast  thou  that 
thou  didst  not  receive,  and  if  thou  didst  receive  it,  why  dost 
thou  glory  ?"  expresses  just  this  thought  of  the  incr/tab/encss 
of  a  man's  character,  to  which  we  are  led  by  a  .scientific  cx- 
aminalion  of  the  facts. 

Ihit  what  shall  we  say  as  to  the  other  side  of  the  antithesis 
— the  con.scicusncss  of  a  power  of  choice,  or  what  we  call 
freedom  ?  Can  this  find  a  place  in  the  scheme  of  the  iniiverse, 
according  to  the  conception  which  we  have  here  laid  down  ? 

I,et  us  look  again  at  the  metaphor  we  have  just  employed. 
We  said  the  uni\-erse  was  a  huge  machiije  and  the  moral  re- 
sponsibility for  the  actions  of  its  several  p'artsniust  lie,  if  any- 
where, with  him  who  constructed  it  aii'.l  .set  it  in  motion.  But 
this  Being  himself  must,  according  to  the  determinist  view, 
act  as  he  is  determined  to  act ;  or  in  Spinoza's  words,  God 
acts  by  the  necessity  of  liis  own  nature.  But  if  man  cannot 
beheld  responsible  for  his  original  nature,  .so  neither  can  that 
great  Being  whom  we  are  supposing  to  have  created  and  set 


m 


—  33  — 

i..  motion  the  universe.     All  moral  responsihilitv  is  (l.us  clini: 
i»ale<l  ;  the  creator  is  <Ie!c  riniue,!  I.y  his  ,>w„  nalnre  to  en.te 
so  that  h.s  action   is  pnuly   mechanical,-  lu-  is  hi.nself  I.ni 
one  part  of  a  mechanical   whole.     If,  however,  abandoning 
MS  conception  of  a  literal  Deus  ex  nuuhhnt,  we  ass.nne  that 
the  universe  must  have  in  some  way  in  itself  the  force  that 
moves  It  ;  if  furthermore  u.  assume-what  inVact  we  know- 
that  some  at  least  of  the  parts  of  this  mechanism  arc  consciuns 
know  which  way    they  turn,  a.ul  can  cnmprehe.ul,    however 
miperfectly,  that  their  own   particular  motion  is  a  necessary 
parlof  thewhole.-ti-n  may   we  not  see  how  it  is  possible 
that  there  should  come  in  a  sense  of  choice  in  the  workings  of 
such  conscious  parts  ?  Uihnit/.  affirmed  that  a  mao.ietic  nct-dle 
were  it  conscious,  must  feel  that  it  had  all  the  points  u{  the 
compass  to  choose  from,  and  chose  to  point    to  the  North 
Moreover,  in  thisself moving  machine  of  the  universe,  each 
sucli  conscious  part  as  we  have  been  supiKising  woidd  be,  and 
tvould  be  more  or  less  elearly  eonseious  of  beinq,  a  part  of  the 
force  which  works  tlirough  the  whole.    Fortlmu-h  we  speak 
of  theuniver.se  as  a  machine,  the  all-importanl  characteristic 
mast  be  remembered  that  it  derives  all  its  force  from  itself 
and  not  from  any  external  source.     As  to  tlie  ultimate  origin 
of  force  as  we  find  it  in  the  physical  world,  we  are  confessed- 
ly 111  the  dark  ;  but  no  speculation  into  the  nature  and  signi- 
ficance of  this  world  of  force  and  matter  can  afford  to  overlook 
the  fact  of  con.sciou.sne.ss,  and  that  of  which  consciousness  is 
the  manifestation,  mind  or  spirit.     Now  it  is  at  least  pos>ible 
that  in  .spirit  we  may  have  the  motor  power  of  the  universe— 
the  original  and  permanent  source  of  its  lorce  and  energy.    If 
this  were  the  ca.se,  it  is  not  difficult  to  see  how  .spirit,  appear- 
ing in  certain  complex  parts  of  the  machine,  siiould  feel  itself 
to  be  what  in  truth  it  is— the  moving  force,  \vhile  yet  it  might 
not  be  con.scious  that  though  a  part  of  such  fcjrce,  it  is  yet,  as  a 
mere  part,  subservient  to  the  whole,  with  lu  power  of  acting 
contrary  to  the  general  movement  of  the  whole.     The  ex- 
istence of  such  omnipresent  spirit  is  of  course  an  assump- 
tion and  is  incapable  of  all  direct  proof,   but  if  it   .should 
render  intelligible  and  hanuonious  the  contradictions  we  have 


—  34  — 

encountered,  it  may  rank  as,  at  least,  a  not  improbable  hy- 
pothesis. 

According  to  the  view  here  very  imperfectly  sketched,  the 
individual  man  is  determined  in  his  character  and  actions  by 
the  course  of  nature  in  the  luiiverse,  and  ultinmtelv  by  the 
universal  spirit  which  constitutes  the  motor  force  of  the  uni- 
verse, and  of  which  the  individual  spirit  is  but  an  infinitesi- 
mally  small  part.  Man  then  is  determined,  just  as  is  any 
other  product  of  nature, — he  is  determined  by  the  whole  of 
which  he  is  a  part, — but  he  is  free,  for  he  is  a  part,  and  a  con- 
scious part,  of  that  Force  which  determines  all  nature,  him- 
self included. 

Can  we  then  retain  our  moral  judgments?  We  not  oidy 
can,  we  must ;  they,  too,  follow  from  our  nature  and  are  the 
inevitable  results  of  the  past.  On  the  other  hand  ethical  sci- 
ence is  not  incompatible  with  man's  freedom,  since  his  actions 
are  not  the  less  subject  to  law  because  found,  on  a  last  analy- 
sis, to  be  based  on  the  self  determination  of  the  Spirit.  Here, 
just  as  in  the  previous  proljlem  of  the  relation  of  mind  and 
body,  we  must  not  hope  to  prove  that,  the  very  essence  of 
which  is,  that  if  true  at  all  it  is  an  ultimate  truth,  and  there- 
fore not  susceptible  of  direct  demonstration.  All  we  can  hope 
for  is  such  a  rational  conception  as  is  found  to  accord  with 
the  facts,  and  enables  us  to  see  the  seemingl)-  contradictory 
sides  of  the  antithesis  resolved  into  a  concrete  and  harmon- 
ious unity. 


I^i 


CHAPTKR  V 


THK   PERSONALITY   OF   GOD. 

Before  passing  on  to  our  final  problen.,  let  us  briefly  review 
the  steps  already  taken  in  our  examination  into  the  nature 
of  personality.     Regarding  the  person,  first,  as  the  unit  of 
which  man's  body  and  mind  are  the  two  corresponch-ng  and 
concomitant  aspects,  we  found  that  it  appeared  highlv  prob- 
able  that  tins  "  double-sidedness"  was  not  limited  To  mar,  or 
even  to  the  liiglier  forms  of  animal  life,  but  that  wherever  we 
find  a  material  organism,  or  even  a  material  atom,  we  may 
fairly  assume  that  such  has  a   "psychical   side."  or  rudi- 
mentary potentiality  of  consciousness.     This  hypothesis  we 
saw  bridged   over,  or  rather  fil.'ed   up,    the  otherwise  vast 
chasm   between  conscious  and  unconscious  life    wliicli  is  so 
inconsistent  with  that  continuity  of  progress  which  modern 
science  teaches  us  to  look  for  in  the  course  of  natural  evolu- 
tion.     According   to  this   theory,    i-sycliic    lite   is    present 
throughout  all  matter  at  first  as  a  mere  potentiality  of  in- 
cipient feeling,  but  becomi-ig  more  anrl  more  highlv  devel- 
oped  as  more  and  more  complex   organisms   are   evolved 
We  tiext  considered  self-consciousness,  which  is  an  essential 
pari  ill  tlie  concept  of  personality.     We  saw  tha^  while  a 
rudimentary  and  isolated  .sensitivity  may  be  present  in  all 
organisms,  it  is  only  when  memory  is  established  tliat  self- 
consciousness  becomes  possible.      Even  memory,    however, 
we  found  did  not  make  its  appearance  suddenly,  and  fidly 
formed  at  once,  but  api.eared  first  as  merely  an  inhe;  'ed  iii- 
stinct,  .so  that  while  we  may  affirm  the  exis.ruce  of    i.  ,  lory 
to  form  the  lowest  limit  at  which  pensonality  is  conceivable 
yet  we  see  that  even  this  indicates  not  so  much  a  hard  and 
:ast  boundary  line  dividing  higher  from   lower  mentality,  as 
the  gradual   dawn  of  a  clearer  psychical    life.     Personality 
thiLs  is  not  the  characteristic  of  a  certain  limited  clas.s  of  or- 


36- 


ganic  beings,  all  of  whom  eqiiall_v  and  in  t!ie  same  sense  pos- 
sess it ;  rather  it  is  an  ideal  conception,  to  which  an  ever 
closer  approximation  is  made  as  a  higher  stage  is  reached  in 
the  scale  of  existence. 

In  considering  personalitj'  as  individual  character,  we  saw 
that   this,  too,   had  a  perfectly  natural  origin,  being  in  part 
traceable  to  inherited  ancestral  qualities,  and  in  pan  the  effect 
of  the  complex  influences  which   work  upon  the   individual 
from  the  connnenccment  of  his  life.     Finallj',  taking  heredity 
and  environment  as  constituting  the  sole  causes  of  any  man's 
character,  we  endeavored  to  show  what  conception  of  the 
world  was  demanded  in  order  to  hanaonize  the   apparently 
conllicting  claims  of  the  consciousness  of  personal  freedom, 
and  the  fact  of  moral  character  bein";  necessarily  determined 
by  antecedent  causes.     For  this  we  postulated  a  view  of  the 
universe  at  once  mechanical  and   spiritual.     The  individual 
we  pictured  as  a  part  of  the  vast  machinery,    his  acts   being- 
inevitable  results  of  the  forces  at  work  in  the  whole.     Yet 
that  man  is  conscious  of  a  freedom  of  choice  is  accounted  for, 
if,  remembering  that  the  luiiverse  must  have  its  motor  power 
within  itself,  we  assume  this  inner  force  to  be  spiritual,  since 
then  those  parts  of  the  mechanism  which  are   self-conscious 
are,  and  just  in  so  far  as  their  self-consciousness  is  developed 
consciously  are,  themselves  a  part  of  the  force  which  animates 
the  whole.     This  view  is  completely  in  harmony  with  what 
we   have  before  .seen   of  the  gradual  dawn   and  increase  of 
personality  in  the  animal  kingdom.     And  here,  to  make  our 
meaning  clearer,  let  us  take  as  examples  three  living  things  in 
the  world,    representing  three   widelj'  different  stages  of  or- 
ganic development, —a  plant,  one  of  the  higher   animals,  and 
a  man.     All  three  alike  share  in  the  spiritual  life  of  the  uni- 
verse, all  act  in  accordance  with  its  laws.     Each  has  both  a 
psychical  and  a  physical  side.     But  while   we  may   assume 
the  plant  to  be  wholly  devoid  of  self-consciousness,  and  there- 
fore to  have  no   feeling  of  choice,  the   animal  may   l)e  sup- 
posed to  possess  a  vague  and  rudimentary  self  consciousness 
and  a  correspondingly  undeveloped  feeling  of  choice,   while 
in  the  civilized,  adult  man  the  consciousness  of  .self  is  thor- 


~37  — 
Such    is   the  accotiut  that  has  been    uivc,   of  tho 

-^  ccnprehensive  sphere  of  neril^^H^.^  ^p,^  :,;;;; 
the  force  which  moves  i„  the  universe  to  U.  esse,.  i^Iy  sn  t 
we  are  ,n  fact  accepting  a  philosophical  Panthd^       V'     ' 

n.  In ;  "';■  r'''"^  ''"^^■"  ^>''^  ^^  ^^-  >--v-^>  ^  - 

oSh^    fe^u::^  ^^'  T'  ''  '"  ^^■•^'"^'  ^"^'  PerpetuaUource 
ottlielikof  the  world,  wo  are   driven  to  identifv  this  life 
"s  Force   th.s  Soul  of  the  universe,    with  God!     S    .1    wJ 

rl^lo'tT'  ''r''7  "'^  ^"^^^'^'"  ^^-^  •-'>■  ^-^  -^  ad. 
nnter   i  tl"      '"  ''V""J"^^  -f-red  to  in  a  previous 

of       7       r  ■'■  ,    '  ^'l^I^''^'-^'"t'>'  tola!  i-^hUion  and  separateness 
of  each  nuhv.dual  self-c<n.sciousness  fron,  everv  nher      Th 
JsohU.onrs  n.  a  sense  ahsoUUe  ;  n.y  eu.otions,  desires"  sen  a 
t>ons,  thoughts,  all  the  nudtitude  of  consciou^  .nd^nd      i  - 

scuH.  states  that  UKd^e  up  my  past  an<l  present  hist^"  ^ 
•sent  the,nse  ves  to  n,e  as  a  separate  strean.  flou•in^  in  il    own 
d.anne.a,K^^ 

^ut  ulnle  tins  ,s  necessardy  the  appearance  which  the  individ- 
ual siue  history  presents  to  himself;  yet  it  gives o.dva  pa.tial 
-Kl  -complete  v,ew  of  the  true  f^icts.     What  ue  have  seen 
-'  'r.  -ne  forces  winch  create  character,  show  that  thi^  s.par- 
ate„es.,sn.>t  s<.  thorough-going  as   we   are  apt  „>  su.pi.e 
ll.cMi^i,ence  of  envu-onment  consists  in  the  effect  ofadjaeent 
rail,  ol  the  universe  of  things  upon  the  in<lividual.     ]K,vdi- 
ty  :s  the  deriving  of  what  is  l.„dilv  and  spiritual  from  nlhers 
1  .us  the  stream  of  a  man's   character  ha.  luul  its  source  in 
oJ.er  streams,  and  has  its  current  and  direction    determined 
.>y  the  nature  of  the  objects  IhrouKh   which  it   nmst   tak.  its 
■ourse.     And  if  the  self-conscious  sj.irit  of  man  is  a   vation 


-3S- 

of  the  whole  force  of  the  universe,  he  has,  moreover,  a  com- 
mon substratum  which  he  shares  with  all  his  fellow  creatures. 
He  is,  then,  not  merel}'  like  his  fellows,  he  is  in  the  fullest 
sense  07ie  7vith  them — one  with  Natiu'c  herself.  And  here  phil- 
osophical speculation  has  only  brought  us  by  slow  steps  with- 
in sight  of  a  truth  which  the  greatest  poets  of  all  ages,  but 
especially  of  our  own,  have  grasped  by  the  strength  of  an 
intuitive  insight.  It  might  be  shown  how  this  community  of 
the  spirit  of  man  with  the  spirit  of  the  universe  is  exhibited 
in  our  higher  aesthetic  feelings,  —we  might  see  how  it  rendcn-i 
intelligibly  the  ai^parent  antinomies  of  sense-perception, — 
how  it  explains  our  sensitiveness  to  the  sufferings  of  others, 
and  how  it  constitutes  ate  i  e  both  the  source  and  the  justifi- 
cation of  our  highest  religii, ,;:  tions.  But  these  questions 
lie  beyond  our  present  mark.  '.'  nuist  here  restrict  ourselves 
to  a  brief  examination  as  to  wheiner  or  not  personality,  such 
as  we  have  hitherto  found  it,  can  with  any  true  significance 
be  applied  to  that  spiritual,  inner,  life  of  the  universe,  to  the 
coi  ception  of  which  it  has  itself  led  us.  This  v,'e  will  now 
consider. 

Let  us  take  the  case  of  a  human  personality,  as  being  its 
most  typical  and  generally  recognized  form.  Man,  we  saw, 
consisted  of  mind  and  body,  which  are  the  two  aspects  under 
which  \\\^  personality  present'^  itself.  If  tliere  be  an  all-per- 
suading spirit  in  the  universe, — an  eternal  mind  of  which  the 
mind  of  man  is  at  once  an  outcome  and  a  symbol, — then  we 
cannot  f;nl  to  .«ee  how  this  mysterious  concomitance  of  mind 
and  body  in  the  human  person  has  its  magnificent  C(>unter- 
part  in  the  all-comprehensive  unity  of  spirit  and  matter  in 
which  the  Infinite  Being  of  the  universe  is  revealed.  The 
whole  physical  universe,  including  not  otdy  all  that  science 
has  opened  up  to  us  of  far  distant  worlds,  but  the  infinite  ex- 
tent of  space  itself  and  all  that  it  contains,  are  the  external 
Form  in  which  is  inc<irporated  the  eternal  Mind. 

It  lias  indeed  been  lu-ged  that  there  can  be  no  mind  in  the 
universe  as  a  whole,  because,  so  far  as  we  can  see  there  are 
no  si  ,,ns  of  a  nervous  system  there.  Brain,  being  the  i)hysi- 
cal  basis  of  our  mental  phenomena,  it  is  assumed  that  higher 


\ ; 


I 

.s 

c 
11 


\ 


—  39  — 
fnriiis  of  mental  activiiv  ,„„,,  ,  .    . 

'I.i.'  is  the  sl.all.nves,  •",';:  "  '""""  '""''"■  S'-'v 
'-ve  l.ee„  p„t  fonh  I.  ^1  f,.'  C  iff  TT  ',""'  "  ^""•"" 
"f  •■  miiK|..st„fi-  first.lire.,  /l  r     ,  ''  "'"'  ''>  '"''  "'"">• 

»'■«  that   all   ,„,ter  T'-"^       "'"""'" '""'^ ''^Pothe- 

possess  nerve  ceils  a,,,!  ni, -i  ^    '''''"''"''' '''■K-"'''«I  1" 

".Sanisn,  „,  ,easl  a,  ft    "il  t7"' r^'  ""'■  "'^'^  ""'  '^^  '"ental 

""h'ke,  and  as  i,„l,f  ■    ,  """""•  '"«  a  material  basis    as 

"rain,  asthei'f '.;:;;:;■;;;-  r « "-•  •>.^- 1....;,,;,: 

atom  ?  "*-  "'<■■  slrnetmeless  matter  of  il,„ 

scionsness  „s  an    sse  T    7'^""""  '"  """*"'"  ^'f-'"'- 

.^■^  we  have  indieat:: ";  r  o ;:'::;',::,  •::,';"-•?"-  '-». 

ways  appears  as  sennr  ,f„  r  ■'"'""="'  self  eonscon.sness  al- 
-g".  N,  r  can  w^i  n  ,,  ""'"■^--  I"'"'"!  I,y  ,„e  „„„. 
tations  and  vet  e  ,■„'"*""  •''^  ''"^  ''"'"  -''I'  H."i- 
"■■iversal  n.ind  ca   n  ""'••^™"snes,s  of  self     ,in,  n,o 

"ot.self,  since  t  ™  |  "'''"°'"'  '"  '"■■  "»-  '"'"'ed  hy  a 
i"fiMi,n<le.  fie,  it  ■';.";  ""  "*"'"'  ^■"--■'«  istie  of 
verse,  there  can  le   ,,""■'-'•'"  '«^  co-exlensi^e  will,  tlie  nni- 

<liffer;ntiate„se  ^  Z^':T  T''''  'f  "  """'  "'"'"  ■''  - 
fro,n  the  not-se  f  e,„    l'  "      T"  '''':'""■"""  "'  ""^  ^^'f 

self-consei<,nsness  ^  ,  ,  JT  '"'""°"''"'=-''"  ^^'""o"' 
"ilhont  personamv  c  ,n    ,        "■■  rr"""''' ?    And,  hnallv, 

a" ?  c'anted treV:;:';::,^;:^ t' 7-;;,';;?-''= «-" - 

"1  man  himself  for  instance    have  1^  "■■  """«'-»<'. 

i-g  "f  snch  n,ind  as  a  titv'.s   ,..','  "''"""'  '"  ■^''"''■ 

l^M.os.a.isin«ofana.,stracUo,      f,  ,':;n,^;"''-'V''^ 

■•/"■*  l,nt  not  S/.,„r  >    Sncl,  .„,  '  'I  V     "''  '"  '''"" 

questions  that  n,eft  us  an.l     , '  ^       """"  "'  '^.  '"■■■'''«"'« 
place  onr  belief  in  a  live  n  '  "'"'''"'"^  ''  "e  would 

--ai,  o,,  a  firn,;,i;„:::;,;:;:,,tsrr'' '""■'= ''''^'"'^- -■'' '-■- 

In  endeavoring  to  nicl  these  ..hiections    la  „.  1,     •     , 


—  40 


tainable  on  oilier  o  rounds,  renders  intelligible  many  otherwise 
inexplicable  facts  in  respect  to  our  emotional  and  moral  na- 
ture, our  perception  of  external  things,  and  the  relations  of 
natural  things  to  one  another.  That  scientific  men,  totally 
free  from  theological  bias,— even  rather  disposed  to  discredit 
any  theorx'  that  might  serve  as  a  buttress  to  religious  dogma, 
recognize  in  force  something  which  points  to  such  an  absolute 
spirit,  is  at  least  a  noteworthy  circumstance.  A  single  quo- 
tation from  Mr.  Spencer  may  serve  to  illustrate  this  trend  of 
thought : 

"  If  we  take  the  highest  product  of  evolution,  civilized  .so- 
ciety, and  ask  to  what  agency  all  its  marvels  must  be  cred- 
ited, the  inevitable  answer  is  :  To  that  unknown  cau.se  of 
'.vliich  the  entire  Cosmos  is  a  manifestation." 

Of  this  "Unknown  Cause,"  Mr.  Spencer  further  states  that 
the  question  in  regard  t  -  "<t  nuist  be,  not  whether  we  shall 
affirm  of  it  personality  or  something  lower,  but  whether  it 
possesses  personality  or  ■  o.iietl  ing;  higher. 

With  regard  to  the  ditticully  of  conceiving  an  ego  not 
limited  by  a  non-ego,  there  are  two  thoughts  that  may  be 
suggested.  First  :  as  we  have  seen,  in  the  ca.se  of  man  the 
limitations  which  shut  us  in  are  in  truth  not  absolute  but 
relative.  We  do  distinguish  between  the  self  and  the  not- 
,self,  yet  just  those  things  which  we  regard  as  the  not-self, — 
the  complex  of  presentations  of  the  world  around  us,  in  as 
much  as  they  are  presentations,  are  forming  a  part  of  our 
mental  life.  That  we  know  ourselves  as  limited,  as  shut  in 
by  other  things,  is  not  in  fact  what  constitutes  our  personali- 
ty ;  rather  it  is  this  limitation  which  shows  our  per.sonality 
to  be  still  inqierfect.  Personality  grows  in  concrete  fullness 
and  truth  as  knowledge  extends  and  will  ]X)wer  increases.  It 
is  our  ignorance  and  impotence  that  enclose  us  within  the 
sphere  of  the  individual.  So  that  we  are  led  to  conclude 
with  L,otze  that,  — " /V;/?r/  personality  is  reconcilable  only 
with  the  notion  of  an  Infinite  Being,  to  those  that  are  finite 
only  an  approximation  to  it  is  attainable,"  (Grundziige  der 
Religionsphilosophie,  p.  46.) 

Secondly  :  Hegel  has  shown  how  spirit  may  be   conceived 


—  4r  — 

as  (lifrcreiitiatino  it<,.if  i     ,, 

'■^"™  «l„d,  is\«;i  ?■;."■■:>•  f-'  "f  that  s.lf„,a„ir..s. 
Her„„,  selr.ex.c,.n.,l,>„       ,  ,      ■7""'-     '"    ""s  view   „,e 

f«'--'fo„  i„  ,|,e  „,„^.        „  ,   ;.,^"  "-  ""•;■<■.•,!  will,  i„,„„„i. 

.' ye.  u,ol,„,c,s   „„■„  ..„,    '^'  i,,'   ;'"   •'-«    ->•''•-■  ^.-s  ,„fi„i,i 

1»-' 'l.e  difficuUv  „f        ^I'^i^^  l™-    ll.is  s,a„„. 

entmM  ,„  „,,,„  ,•,,„  ,,     ,    ,   '^^  ■-""«'>"le  spi.-i,  „,,  .Hff,,. 

/'"^"y  :  we  must  kwu-       f        i'™""""'   ""*«l"-s. 

I).V„„ty.       TO,,.,,  '^   .l"ll""P0„,O,pl,ic    Vicv    of  („c. 

•'••■'''■ei»spine,a,,<l.l    ,.':::'';"'''  """  ""■'"  -  a  G«l 
«e  k„o„  ciireclly  i„  ,|,c  ,„i„  |  „f   ,',    "'  "';*""  """  "^  "I.id, 

S"age  »e  ,„„y  say  that  ,„,„  :  7«''""S;  lo  Bil.lical   Ian- 

'•••'>■'  "<>'  to  <1„,  as  i„  i,,r;  !  '  '  ■"■""■■  "f  «'"'•  "0 
-urce.,  of  His  character,  I,  ,/,'''";■  """  '''--«...  or 
»Hh  the  so„l  of  the  ...m-esetn I  ■'"""''"'•  "'-■  "''-■  'fe"'!"^ 
'■""ceived.     No,.,.a,Mvci  ,a!.     e  .r  '"'''""'"«  ™"   '- 

the  I.,fi„ile,-,.a,her  it  co    •  "     „T°","'  "'"  ""■'■l"P."c..,t  i„ 
I»-iWlity  of  the  Whole  e",    in  o;"";  '•"  "''''■  "'"'"'-' 
-"-  life.    If,  houevcr,,"     "  ,°   ;;r"'""'  '"""'  ™"  -"- 
IJivnie  Spirit,  the,,    ,h,   ,       ,  '      ,     '^ '"■'"   '■*  n  tyjie  of  the 
»i<le,s  of  „ia„.,;  „at  re      h,"r  ;:";'•  ""^"^'^"■•"'  -"  ■"™ '•■ 
™"e  Plai.,13-.  have  tl.dr       '  ic  ,  ^  .""r,  ""'  '"  "'■""■  "^'>- 
l«rl.s  i„  tl,e  .„e„tal  hfe  of  a„i„'      ?      '"',  ""l"-''"^'^'  ™""ter- 
al.so  tl,eir  perfect  a,,,,  ^^"t^"  "',""  ""'■*'>-•  '■»- 
"■"-nsal  Spi,it  i„  vvl,ich   ve  r,'",     "  '"""=  "^ '"»' 

''«■■«■     How  fa„|ty  „„.,  dofecli ve  o  ;;  !'    l"""'  ^""'  ''■•'>-^-  °'"- 
sonahly  „,a,,  or  rall,er  muT,     VI   ■    '°'"-'"  "°"""  "f  I'"- 

!.>•  i"a,lec,„ale  to  rep,ese„t  pl  ,  f  „  ''■''.'  "  "  '"  """'  "tter- 
•■.Pl-h-catio,,  of  a  CO,  cept  ";,;';'""  '""•'""'''•  f™"'  -"■ 
1'a.iso,,  of  C.ite  ,hi„„    t,  t ha  'r   r        T  """"''"'  ''''  "  »"- 

"-'f  an  these  finite  ."ole  11  f ''^:^t^.::':.;;  ™"™-^^  ■■" 

»t.Lio  .such  concepts  uv 


—  42  — 

are  necessarily  limited,  we  can  only  describe  that  which 
reaches  out  beyond  all  knowledge  in  terms  of  what  we  can 
more  fully  grasp.  Nor  can  we  regard  ourselves  as  erring  if 
we  ascribe  to  the  Divinity  which  shapes  the  ends  of  the  whole 
course  of  nature,  whatever  in  the  human  soul  seems  greatest 
and  purest  and  best  to  that  soul  itself. 

"Thou,  dread  source, 
Prime,  self-existing  Cause  and  End  of  all 
That  in  the  scale  of  being  fill  their  place, 
Above  our  human  region,  or  below, 

vSet  and  sustained Thou,  Thou  alone 

Art  Everlasting,  and  the  blessed  spirits 
]l7iom  thou  inchidcst  as  the  sea  her  waves  : 
For  adoration  thou  endurest ;  endure 
For  consciousness  the  motions  of  thy  will ; 
For  apprehension  those  transcendent  truths 
Of  the  pure  intellect,  that  stand  as  laws 
(Submission  constituting  strength  and  power) 
Even  to  thy  Being's  infinite  majesty  !" 

( 1  Vordsii  'orth '  ^  Excursion . ) 


